Ancestors
by Toph the Trickster
Summary: Jaune Arc left his home and family behind to go to Vale, determined to become a huntsman. His father, however, still opposed the idea. Nicholas Arc instead decided to come up with a compromise: getting in touch with his relatives. As far as he was concerned, better to keep things in the family than be under Ozpin's thumb.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

"In all honesty," the voice on the other line drawled. "I'm more surprise you bothered to keep the thing."

Nicholas Arc chuckled. The man had a point, and Nicholas had contemplated throwing the old audio-only scroll away when it had first been given to him many years ago. He'd opted to hold on to it if ever things should ever go horribly wrong. It would help to have somewhere relatively safe to send Juniper or his children, after all.

This was not such a situation, honestly, but it warranted his making this call.

"I held on to it in case I needed something from you."

The man on the other line laughed, the baritone had been gravelly with age for as long as Nicholas could remember.

"Well, I suppose you need something from me then, Nicholas?" if nothing else, the man didn't sound opposed to the idea, at least.

"Jaune has gone missing, and he's taken Crocea Mors with him."

There was a pause. Nicholas didn't even hear breathing from the other side.

"You want me to find him?"

Nicholas would have preferred that his only son had never left and that the boy had never gotten ideas of _heroism_ into his head.

There was a scoff from the other line, audible enough that Nicholas couldn't have mistaken it for a different sound or static caused by the distance between them.

"You could just as easily track the boy down and take him home yourself. What does this have to do with old Charles?"

The self-deprecation didn't phase Nicholas.

"Jaune's decided that he wants to be a hero, he wants to save people. It's why I let him take the sword."

Another pause.

"And I know you don't want that, though your parents might have other ideas. Why not contact them?"

"Better you than them."

"Oh?" Well, the old man was laying it on a little thick, wasn't he?

"I know you still haven't found a successor, Charles. It's why you were perfectly fine to let me keep the old sword. My son wants to save people, and I'd rather he learn under you than under his grandparents." Charles's legacy for the safety of Nicholas's son. It seemed a fair-enough deal.

Nicholas could have gone himself, but he didn't have the time to train the boy, and he couldn't in the way that would have still allowed him to be a huntsman considering Jaune's age. Charles was the best compromise he could think of. The old man was adept at handling people, and lived far enough to give Jaune the experience he needed to accelerate his learning.

That, and at least Charles was trustworthy, or more trustworthy than Nicholas's own parents. He even trusted the old man more than Ozpin, granted, that wasn't saying much since he didn't trust the Beacon Headmaster as far as Nicholas could throw him.

And since Nicholas was rather sure Jaune would end up trying to get into Beacon, this was a welcome alternative. Unlike his own parents, Charles never begrudged him for his choice; there was no bad blood between them despite the distance ─ physical or otherwise.

So Nicholas Arc waited. Eventually, though, Charles Arc replied:

"I suppose you still live in Ansel?" Was what the man said. "Vale, then? Beacon, perhaps?"

Nicholas took a deep breath and began telling him what details he could.


	2. I - New Arrivals

**Chapter I**

 **New Arrivals**

The plan had been simple, simple enough that having two of the White Fang's more competent people handle would yield results.

Strike at the train holding the Schnee dust shipment that was bound for Vale and either detach or detonate the payload. It had even been easy enough to execute even though the train was a little more heavily-guarded than they expected.

It wasn't anything that would have given Blake Belladonna and Adam Taurus problems.

Despite that, here he was now, on the rear cars of the train after his partner ─ his former partner ─ had cut the coupling, effectively leaving the White Fang.

Leaving him.

He wasn't sure where she was going to go, but it was only a matter of time before she showed up again, and he'd have those in the Vale area put their ears to the ground. Adam would find her, and he'll make her see just what she did today.

Gold eyes looked at the black specks in the distance. Soon the front of the train would be gone from sight, and cars he currently rode on would slow to a stop without the engine pulling them forward.

Adam sighed. There wasn't a point in detonating all this dust now, and he might as well call in some backup to ship all of this dust before the SDC gets the report on the attack and a team is sent to recover it.

Doing just that, he turned around to get a better count of how much their organization just acquired.

It was then he saw someone standing at the door of the previous car.

"Hello." It was a cheerful enough greeting, a bearded mouth stretched in an easy smile.

Adam blinked, brows furrowing.

He was certain Blake and he had made sure there was no one left in the rear cars. All they fought were Atlesian robots, and a human would have certainly already raised an alarm to the rest of the train. Where did this guy come from?

The faunus finished his call with HQ and stored his scroll before facing the coming man fully. The latter had crossed over to the car he was in now. Still a good distance away, but close enough for Adam to charge.

"Halt." Really, he should just kill him and be done with it. Adam assumed a drawing stance with his hand on Wilt's hilt. Actually, that was a good idea.

The man kept walking, both hands adjusting the long navy-blue coat that hung till his calves. Adam noticed his more heavily-armored left arm, the sun reflecting off of the rather sinister-looking spike protruding from his gauntlet.

"You know," The man opened as the wind whipped them both. "I never quite understood how killing people and general terrorism was supposed to get humanity to see you differently."

He wanted to talk?

Adam had to suppress a twitch of his eyebrows as he slid one foot forward. If this man had the time to talk, then he could just die now. He had bigger problems, such as a White Fang deserter that he now had a score to settle with.

He'd been tensing his legs to ready that charge when he blinked.

The man had already crossed half of the distance between them, sword in hand.

Their blades met, heat rising with Wilt's fire while the smokey steel of his opponent shone in the sunlight.

There was a rush of air near his right eyebrow. The gauntlet!

Adam disengaged with a slide.

A thrust came for his midsection.

Adam parried with Blush and moved to aim the hilt's barrel at his opponent.

He felt a tap on the hilt just as he pulled the trigger, the explosive shot causing a rush of air that ruffled his opponent's blond hair. The shot went wide.

Adam struck with Wilt.

His opponent ducked under the swing and rushed him with his spiked gauntlet.

Adam disengaged.

Who was this guy?

"You didn't strike me as a talker." The man said, once again assuming the carefree stance he had before he started their brief exchange, sword held loosely in his right hand. "I thought I might get a conversation out of you if you could take me seriously." He shrugged.

Not really, no. Adam would rather not talk to the man at all.

But he did need time to use his Semblance, and he supposed he could entertain the man until it was ready.

"Who are you?"

The man chuckled. "Straightforward. I like that." He twirled the blade into a reverse grip with a flourish. He sent Adam a shallow bow at the waist, and Adam was almost tempted take the obvious opening. He thought better of it.

"Charles Arc, at your service."

He didn't recognize the name.

"Adam Taurus."

What Adam's Semblance allowed him to do was absorb the force of a strike and multiply it several times in a counterswing.

At first glance, this seemed rather straightforward, but unfortunately, it required him to take an attack head-on and could potentially get him killed. Fortunately, his Semblance could actually absorb even the damage that would have been done to him, but doing so required him to prepare it; the longer the time spend prepping, the more damage it could absorb without Adam actually being hurt.

Admittedly, Adam couldn't fathom why his Semblance worked the way it did, but it was how he'd learned to use it over the years. The study of Aura and Semblances was a pseudo-science at best, and if even the experts couldn't understand it, he didn't see much of a point in doing so.

And so here he was, subtly channeling his aura into Wilt while buying time.

"So what exactly were you and your friend doing?" Charles now had the tip of his blade placed against the steel flooring of the open-air car they stood on.

"I don't think that's any of your business." It really wasn't.

The wind was slowing down, but Adam was fairly sure that it was more that their car was slowing down. It was already amazing how long the car managed to keep going after being disconnected from the engine, but it was going to stop at some point.

"Come now," Charles pressed, clearly undeterred. "It's not like there's anyone else here to talk to."

Adam pursed his lips.

"Who do you work for?"

The older man simply laughed. Now that Adam managed to get a better look at him, he appeared to be in his late forties, probably early fifties. It was uncommon to see a huntsman that old in active duty.

But Adam wasn't so sure he was a huntsman, either. His movements had been efficient, and while he tended to add flourishes to the end of some of his attacks, those were always meant to thread into another strike.

"If you don't answer my questions, why should I?" A pale blonde brow rose as the man offered. "Or is the White Fang really filled with rude children?"

Children, not faunus. Not animals. Adam wasn't sure if it was a distinction that mattered in this case, but the statement was derogatory all the same.

"Why do you want to know?"

Charles tilted his head to one side and deadpanned. After a moment, however, he relented, opting to be the first of them to answer.

"Two people causing a ruckus on the back of the train I and my wife were riding." He shrugged. "I thought I'd check what was going on. Imagine my surprise finding two children smashing Atlesian robots and inspecting the dust and weapons shipment."

That's surprisingly accurate. More accurate than Adam would have expected from what should have been an uninvolved bystander. Besides, Charles had come in from the rear cars, which he and Blake had gathered intel on and he was certain there were no passenger cars back there.

"What I want to know is why."

And we arrive at the crux of the problem.

"You honestly expect me to just answer you." Adam continued pouring more of his aura into his Semblance. At this point, he would have been able to take the same attack he did from the Atlesian robot from earlier. He was confident whatever this man had he'd be able to counter.

"I don't see why not." The older man sent him a smirk. "I mean if you have every intention of killing me, I see little problem in just indulging an old man's last request."

That would have made more sense if the man wasn't actually capable of giving Adam a fight. He faunus didn't answer.

Charles didn't seem to mind, however, completely happy to just throw out theories.

"I suppose dust and armament is always something a petty terrorist organization like yours would need. I mean, I doubt you lot have a source of income to supply yourselves legitimately, yes?" There was an amused glint in the blue eyes as the wind died down and the trees and leaves of Forever Fall became more and more sharp. "You have no sponsors, no backers. All you have is what, Menagerie? Menagerie hasn't been an economic powerhouse in over five hundred years."

Adam felt his grip on Wilt tighten. He was very sure Charles was trying to get a rise out of him.

"So I can guess you two were doing one of two things, either raiding the place and stealing the supplies, or destroying it to damage the SDC's reputation and make it more difficult for them to arm their guards." Charles rolled his eyes, clearly no longer paying attention to his opponent. "Odds are, though, you just called for backup. I can't see a reason for you to dispose of all of these perfectly good supplies now that they've been left ripe for the picking. I suppose you should thank that partner of yours putting these in your hands, not that you can ship all of this to your hideout so easily by yourself."

There was a pause.

"Ah, right. I suppose the appropriate term would be 'former partner.'"

Adam was sending him a kick before he knew what he was doing. This was easily blocked by the spiked gauntlet as Charles twirled his sword back into an overhand grip.

As the sword was brought in for thrust, Adam twirled and parried it with Wilt, briefly drawing the blade before sheathing it again afterwards. He wanted more power.

Charles's free hand cam down in an overhead swing after Adam grounded his foot again, but he saw this coming.

Wilt once again caught the strike before being returned to its scabbard.

Charles's eyes narrowed at the action or the red glow that was probably suffusing Adam now. The faunus didn't care.

There was enough force behind those strikes for him to finish this fight.

Time seemed to slow as Adam drew Wilt, the red light of his Semblance seemed to drain all light from the surroundings, tinting everything in red and black.

He saw his opponent move to block using the same armored gauntlet he'd been using for their past few exchanges. He knew it wouldn't be enough.

Adam struck home.

The pain followed shortly after.

The faunus felt his knees grow weak, his grip on Blush loosening as he moved a hand towards the source of the pain, grasping at the blade that had been driven through his lower abdomen.

What?

Gold eyes turned to look at where Wilt struck his opponent. How had this happened?

The sudden rush of light, wind, and heat that his sword generated with the strike dissipated, and he was greeted only with a lavishly-decorated round-shield, the crystals that adorned it glowing a soft gold.

Earth Dust.

There was a burst of pain. Adam gasped as his opponent twisted the sword before pulling it out of him.

The shield disappeared then, collapsing and folding into the spiked gauntlet that had been giving him so much trouble.

And with both hands, Charles brought the blade down on his left shoulder.

All he saw was white.

Adam tried to take a deep breath. He blinked. He tried to get up, but he was only greeted with pain and lightheadedness.

"Stay down, boy." The voice was much less friendly now. Adam's eyes couldn't see very well, and all he was greeted with was the blue of the sky. Everything else was turning dark.

"Wha─" He breathed, feeling something warm bubble up from his throat. He tried to swallow, but more just came up. "Why─"

"Your friends are coming."

They were? Adam struggled to focus on his ears, but everything seemed so faint.

There was a pause.

"You're dying, though." He continued. "I ripped through one of your lungs and disemboweled you. You'll either die of drowning in your own blood or die from the infection." Another pause, maybe he was shrugging. "Assuming the blood loss doesn't get you first."

He- He was dying.

That wasn't something Adam had wrestled with in a while.

He couldn't quite think about it, though.

The others were coming. They wouldn't be as good as he was, wouldn't be as trained or as experienced.

This man ─ Charles ─ was going to be here when they arrived.

Adam's breath quickened, his blood-filled lungs trying to draw more air and only filling themselves further with liquid.

Blood bubbled up from his lips.

There were vibrations coming through the steel floor. He could feel them, as clouded as his mind now was.

He tried to turn to his side, only his right arm seeming to obey him. He felt something heavy weighting his midsection down. Adam tried to move his legs, but they would not. He couldn't feel them anymore.

Gasps. Were those gasps? He wasn't sure. Black lined his vision as he used what little strength he could muster to turn himself unto his side.

There were maybe four or five of them, from what little he could see.

Illia. He could recognize one of them. She didn't know Blake left them yet. She'd be crushed.

He wanted to speak, wanted desperately to warn them.

All he got was blood.

A hand ─ Charles's ─ grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and laid him on his back before Adam could do anything else.

"You're done, Adam Taurus." He whispered, the voice more crisp than anything he had heard in the last few moments. "You can rest now."

And then came the heavy footfalls on his left that grew fainter and fainter.

Adam Taurus looked up at the sky above him as his vision grew dim.

My, the sky was beautiful. Why hadn't he ever taken the time to admire it?

~TtT~

The first thing that Blake Belladonna thought as she got off the train was that Vale Central Station was a very bright place. Golden eyes looked up and took in the glass roof that allowed a lot of sunlight through.

Her eyes swept the area, making sure to look around as she stepped off the train and unto the platform, taking care to not attract attention while the staff on the train proper moved to inform the authorities. She couldn't avoid being seen altogether thanks to the nature of the place, but she could at least be inconspicuous while everyone wasn't alarmed.

She'd done it. She'd left the White Fang, and somehow managed to save a train's worth of people while doing so. It wasn't going to make up for everything she'd done so far, she was sure, but it was a start. It felt good, too. Sort-of saving the people on the train reminded her of the times before the White Fang had become what it was today, back when it focused on helping the faunus rather than hurting humanity.

But they had left that life behind, left their good work behind.

And she left them behind. Her friends, her comrades.

Adam and Illia.

Blake drew a deep breath as she walked out of the platform and into the station building where most of the shops would be.

She was all alone now. It was essentially a new lease on life, and one she was actually looking forward to building herself.

Perhaps she'd go to Beacon, maybe start out as a Huntress. She had the skill set, and there was a lot of good she could do that way. She'd have to make arrangements for papers, but she had a lot of her own important documents with her specifically for cases like these, and she was sure Tuckson was still in town. Maybe she could call in a favor with him.

Noise started to break out from the platforms. The authorities had been informed, it seemed. It was a good thing she was already on her way out.

The chatter around her grew in volume as people asked each other what was going on.

"Excuse me!" She heard over the faceless travellers around her. It was unlikely that the call was directed at her, so she kept going. "Excuse me!" The voice was getting closer.

Might that have been someone from the train? Blake's ears turned sideways. She was certain no one had seen her while she had been on board. She'd kept hidden in the baggage car and avoided any of the guards that had come to investigate their separation from the cars which held the dust and weapons.

She sped up her pace just a bit. It was more likely that whoever this was was a passerby that might have been lost. It wasn't uncommon, though Blake was confident that Vale Central Station would have ways to help people find their way. The lady calling for her might leave her alone if Blake looked busy enough.

Keeping close to the wall, the managed to avoid most of the crowd as she stopped hearing whoever it was that might have been calling for her. Hopefully they found their way or whatever it might have been.

Blake had scarcely stepped unto the brickwork that surrounded the station, the cold of twilight air hitting her once she cleared the doors, when she felt a hand grasp her shoulder.

"Please," It was the same voice as earlier, much closer and lower this time. Firm. Blake instinctually tried to break away, but found the grip stronger than she'd expected. "A word."

The former White Fang agent took a deep breath. She hadn't heard her coming, which was a surprise considering her hearing abilities, but the noise of everyone else might have drowned it out.

She could attack the woman, but it wasn't an intelligent choice. Her best option was probably to make a break for it once she let go, or wait till they were in a more isolated place.

Blake turned around.

The woman that caught her was tall, easily over six feet, and dressed in what looked to Blake like a dress from some of the books she'd read. It was navy-blue with gold and white embroidery, and accompanied by a black bolero that accentuated her curvy figure.

Long, black hair fell down in waves and framed her face and shoulders, golden eyes looking down at her.

But what caught Blake's attention most were the pair of white horns sticking out from just above her temples that curved forward much like a steer's.

She was a faunus.

"I wanted to speak with you briefly." The smile was vibrant and actually reached the woman's eyes. Blake fought the urge to relax because while the the older woman's appearance and voice was disarming, there was one thing that bothered her:

The woman still hadn't let go of her shoulder.

"Yes?"

"Not here." The smile remained, but her voice had dropped in pitch. Blake felt herself tense almost immediately. She wanted to bolt, but the grip on her should kept her there. It was actually quite steady. "Come. Let's head to one of the benches in the gardens. That area is fairly quiet at this time of day, I think."

Vale Central Station's garden was located out the main entrance and across the little driveway that serviced it. It was a public space and Blake could imagine that this would have been a favorite place for people to relax on weekends. Even now, the cat faunus could see a few people resting in the circular benches that surrounded the largest trees. Likely people waiting for the traffic of the rush hour to let up.

The arm on her shoulder remained as they moved, the strength of the woman guiding her becoming much more apparent now that Blake was actually being dragged by it.

Blake was seated on a wooden bench that had its back against the large fountain that served as the garden's central attraction. The woman a seat beside her, a skirt-covered thigh brushing Blake's own.

She finally let the hand go.

"First thing I'd like to know is your name." The woman said in a whisper.

Blake was sorely tempted to run.

And then she felt a pat on her knee.

"I'm not going to hurt you." Blake looked to another smile on the woman's face, this time smaller with a look of what appeared to be… understanding? "But you have to understand, I saw you and the man you were with trying to blow up a train that my husband and I were on. I wanted to ask why."

Blake started.

She had been seen? But no one had approached her while she was on the train, or reported her to the authorities. She was sure because there'd have been more of an uproar, and it was unlikely she'd have made it all the way out here without a chase breaking out.

Instead this woman approached her discreetly. The younger of the two took a deep breath. If nothing else, this meant that Blake wasn't going to get reported ─ at least not yet.

"The back of the train was filled with weapons and dust being shipped to Vale by the SDC." She told the woman in a whisper.

The woman nodded. "You wanted to destroy them."

"Yes." Blake looked away. She knew why she was speaking telling the woman this. Blake had been seen, and even though she was confident she might be able to get away now, she'd cause a scene. The park was a good place for them to speak without giving Blake the chance to escape inconspicuously.

"But I heard no explosion."

She wouldn't have, no.

"I didn't want to go through with it." Blake responded. "The explosion will have damaged the front of the car and put the lives of both the crew and civilians in danger." She looked to the older woman.

Blake paused at the sight. The warmth that had been in those golden eyes were gone, instead replaced with a cold, calculating gaze that seemed to bore into her.

"What happened?" The voice was still soft, though. It reminded her of her mother, Khali, whenever the older cat faunus was scolding her.

"My partner ─ former partner ─ was going to go through with it." Blake breathed. "I couldn't let that happen, so while he was distracted I cut the coupling holding the car he was on to the rest of the train."

She heard nothing from the older woman after this, though she did nod before looking to the garden. Blake did the same.

Eventually, however, she spoke: "What do you intend to do now."

At this, the younger woman looked to the sky above them. It was red and purple as the sun was setting. She briefly wondered if Adam was looking at the same sky.

"I'd like to rebuild my life. I've been at this a while, and I'm not too happy doing it anymore." She looked down and wrung her hands as she leaned her elbows against her thighs. "I've done enough harm."

"A most noble goal." She could hear the smile in the response. "Though I imagine it isn't going to be easy."

No, no it wouldn't be, but Blake had faced many hardships before. How much worse could it get?

She almost scoffed at the idea.

"I'll have my work cut out for me." She sent the woman a smile which was returned, the golden eyes looking down on her now warm again.

"I wish you the best of luck." She felt the hand on her knee give her an affectionate pat as the older woman rose. "Don't worry about anyone reporting you. My husband and I are the only ones that saw you and I promise that we'll not breathe a word of it to the authorities."

"T-thank you." That was easier than Blake expected. She wasn't sure she could trust the woman's words, but it certainly lifted a weight from her shoulders.

"Second chances are things I believe we should encourage." The woman said as she took a step forward before turning around. "We all make mistakes. It's only fair we are allowed the opportunity to make up for it, yes?" The elder of the two women sent the younger a curtsey. "I thank you for your time."

"My name is Blake." She eventually said, remembering she hadn't even answered the question the older woman had opened with. This whole experience was odd. She had just so recently escaped from a past that had become so bleak for her, and this whole encounter seemed surreal. Both too good to be true and so very auspicious. She was sure her father would laugh if she ever told her about this. "Blake Belladonna."

The woman had been turning to leave, but paused at the mention of the name and turned around. The smile that was sent Blake's way was positively radiant.

"And I am Marianne Arc." She laughed. "And I hope we see each other again someday, miss Belladonna."

~TtT~

Jaune Arc was finally doing it. He was going to become a Huntsman!

Well, he was going to be attending a school that would train him to be one, but the end result was going to be the same.

It had been easy enough to get to Vale from Ansel. The capitol city's need for food meant that supplies from all over the kingdom were regularly shipped to it via train. Sure, he had needed to transfer a few times since there weren't any trains that went directly to the capitol from his hometown, but it didn't take him more than a few days. True, he had enough Lien saved up to afford travel by Bullhead, but he opted not to on account of his disposition towards motion sickness.

He had been in Vale for a few days now, and set himself in one of the cheaper inns before setting out to familiarize himself with the city.

After all, one couldn't easily get in touch with the city's underworld if you didn't know where to find them. This would have been easier if he'd had prior connections, of course, but it wasn't exactly something he had as what was essentially a country hick.

So he moved about the city, checking out the sights and sounds of the more popular places ─ there was no reason not to enjoy himself while he was here, right? ─ then moving on to the poorer districts of the City of Vale, looking into bars and little shops.

It was in a small grocery store that he eventually found a lead.

"Junior's always been good at getting people sorted." the rather well-dressed woman that ran the said with a knowing grin. "He's largely retired from the family business now, but he's still willing to help the odd lost boy get back on their feet. I'll give him a phone call and you can drop by his club to get yourself sorted." She laughed before turning around and walking into what was likely the back office, asking him for his full name so she could make the arrangements.

Lost documents. It was a realistic enough problem to run into, and he'd been honest about being from the frontiers where such papers were easy to lose track of. And once lost, it was very difficult to get anything done especially if one was in a hurry. Jaune hoped other people wouldn't bat an eye at wanting to get some transcripts written down just to save time.

He looked around the little shop. It wasn't anything spectacular, and could easily be put to shame by some of the larger chain stores that served the City of Vale. Places like these had an appeal, though, and they tended to be much closer to the communities that frequented them. Why go across town to the mall if you could just cross the street for the drink you wanted to buy, or those fruits you wanted to pick up on the way home from work?

Jaune caught sight of a younger boy coming out from behind some of the shelves, the apron the latter was wearing identifying him as a member of the shop's staff. Maybe he was the lady's son or nephew? That, or just working part-time to earn some extra spending money. It's how Jaune managed to earn enough Lien to pull this off, after all.

It hadn't been much at first. He'd really just wanted to have some extra money so he could buy toys for himself. He'd mow the lawn of their neighbors or help out in their farms with the animals, even go into the fields, too, when he didn't have school.

Only after his dad had made it clear that he wasn't going to be training him to be a huntsman did Jaune start saving money and doing more work in earnest. He'd play at Ansel's only pub on weekends, work for mister and missus Clemenza's bakery as an assistant on afternoons after school and sunday mornings at one of the diners to help out in the kitchen for the breakfast rush.

He'd told himself he wanted to figure out what he wanted to be after his father had denied him the future of being a huntsman like Nicholas was, like Jaune's grandfather and great grandfather before them. The money had been saved, however. Oh he'd used it occasionally though, like making sure to buy Pumpkin Pete's even when his sisters had stopped eating it just so he could get his hands on the hoodie he was now wearing.

It was worth it.

"Alright," the voice was as chipper as it was earlier. Jaune nodded to the other boy before turning to the grocer as she walked back to her place behind the counter. "I've given Junior the call. He'll be free to see you tomorrow night while he's at the club. Just give your full name to the guard at the door, and they'll take care of the rest."

That was easy. Jaune supposed it made business easier to do. There wasn't much of a point if it was as inconvenient as just getting papers legally.

It also made getting what he needed less of a hassle to do.

"Thank you, miss…" He paused.

"Corleone." The woman said with a smile. "Apollonia Corleone."

"Thank you, miss Corleone!" He said with a wide grin. "There's one more thing, though."

"Yes?" she asked with an eyebrow raised.

"Do you make the bread you have on display here? It smells good."

The woman laughed, putting her hands on her hips and reminding him distinctly of the grocer's wife in his own hometown. "No, I have them shipped here from the outside. But they're fresh; just came in this morning."

"Anything you can recommend?" He turned towards the display. There were some pastries that caught his eyes, but he knew she'd know her wares better than he.

"The cheese Mistrallian." Corleone patted her slightly plump waist with a smirk. "They've kept a few pounds on me for the past ten years. Vito!" The boy stuck his head out from one of the shelves ─ a different one from where Jaune had seen him earlier. "Pack a dozen of Hector's cheese Mistrallians for mister Arc, here!" The boy nodded and stopped whatever it was he was doing to rush to the front. Grabbing a bag, he moved for the display.

"Thank you." Jaune told the woman with a shallow bow. "I'll be sure to tell my friends about this place. You seem to have everything here."

Favors ought to be repaid in kind.

* * *

 **AN:**

 **So here is the first chapter of Ancestors. This is going to be my first foray into the realm of RWBY as far as fanfiction is concerned, and I'll likely be updating this sporadically while I work on my other fics.**

 **As you may have likely read in the chapter above, the premise is simple enough: Nicholas Arc gets in contact with some estranged relatives to help with taking Jaune Arc in as an alternative to his attending Beacon. Butterflies are already pretty obvious with just this chapter, though, and I wanted to establish the setting as well as give you guys a feel of what the characters are like.**

 **I'm averse to saying any more for fear of spoiling, so I'll leave things here.**

 **If you guys enjoyed the story, please do leave a review. I'm still new to this fandom so I'm curious to see what you guys think of the piece.**

 **Cheers!**


	3. II - The Players - Part I

**And here we have a new chapter for "Ancestors!"**

 **I've also spotted some errors in the previous chapter, and I'll get around to fixing those during the weekend, most likely.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 **Chapter II**

 **The Players - Part I**

"We're closed."

Gruff, as always. Tukson might have been polite to his customers during office hours, but the man certainly liked his personal time. The fact that the bookshop was located in downtown Vale probably mean that he'd had a busy day.

Really, though, it made an excellent place to gather information for the White Fang. Blake ought to know, Tukson had been the source of some useful information on the goings-on in the city. And while she didn't frequent Vale during her tenure with the White Fang, the few times she did come here, she'd found his resources useful, and his company acceptable.

"I was hoping you'd be willing to accomodate an old friend."

He paused from whatever he was doing ─ looking at the tally for the day, Blake guessed ─ and looked up. Hazel eyes met amber before he let out an amused huff and going back to his work.

"Can't say it was too smart for you to come here, Belladonna." His words would have caused Blake to tense had he not been preoccupied with more mundane work.

"I wasn't aware word travelled so quickly." It was nice to not have to be so pressured. Part of why she'd come to Tukson in the first place was because she was aware of his own disagreement with what the White Fang was doing. She shot him a small grin before moving to one of the window-side to check on some books. It was going be some time before she would feel safe enough to come back here after this.

Honestly, though, she was sure that Adam would be quiet about what happened for a while yet. He was never the type to discuss things of a personal nature immediately. Because ultimately, even if she had left the White Fang because she didn't like what direction they were going in, Blake knew that Adam would still see it as a personal affront.

She'd been counting on that to buy her a little more time before the hunts started.

"Word travels fast when one of the White Fang's best fighters ends up getting killed."

Blake shut the book she was looking at. Turning to Tukson, she gave him a curious look. "Is that how they're spinning my leaving?" Adam might have taken her departure harder than she expected, then, if he was willing to consider her dead. Though it would also make life much easier for her if the rest of the organization thought her gone. "That I died while we were raiding the train?"

At this, Tukson paused and turned to her. The look on his face was somewhere between surprise and disbelief.

"No," The voice was a familiar one, one that made Blake tense and caused her to contemplate leaving then and there. "It's something a little worse, Blake."

Ilia Amitola walked out of the shadows of Tukson's backroom, the shadows wrapping around her falling away as her skin changed from pitch-black to the tan she was so familiar with.

"Adam's dead." Her brows were furrowed and her mouth paused with lips parted as though she was trying to suppress what would have been an unconscious biting of the lower lip. "He was killed during the raid on the train earlier today."

What?

"A-Adam's…" Of all the things to have happened because of her departure, that wasn't something she saw coming.

How? They were sure that there was no one left when they advanced, so Blake was pretty sure Adam was all by himself when she cut him loose. If it wasn't Atlesian guards ─ humans or otherwise ─ who could have taken him down? And even if there were guards they had missed, Adam was no slouch. She was certain he'd have been able to take most of anyone on with a few exceptions.

But then again, Blake had also been sure she wasn't seen, and she had exchanged words with Marianne Arc just hours ago.

Warm arms wrapped around her shoulders. The cat faunus blinked and found Ilia giving her a hug.

"I was worried." Blake's childhood friend met her own, Ilia's smile almost relieved. "After I'd seen what happened to Adam, I'd thought…" Her friend's mouth hung open at the pause, probably unable to finish the idea.

Blake didn't respond, however, opting instead to bury her nose in Ilia's shoulder and to hold on to her friend tighter.

It was just the two of them now.

Minutes later would find them in the upper floors of Tukson's building sitting over a desk as they talked. The man had been kind enough to put together a pot of strong coffee for them while they talked.

"The first thing I thought to ask you was weather or not you set Adam up." Ilia started as she looked down at her cup. "From the way you reacted, though, it looked like you were just as surprised to hear about it."

Blake opened her mouth to answer. She had been. The plan had been to leave him there to be picked up by the rest of the Fang that were supposed to be their backup should things go south.

'Goodbye.' Perhaps her parting word to him had been appropriate after all, regardless of wether she meant it that way or not.

She didn't know what she could say now. Adam Taurus had been a childhood friend to her along with Ilia, the three of them growing up in Menagerie under the rule of her father.

He'd been her partner in crime, her rock, her first love.

And he had died.

"I'd thought I'd get to see him again." She eventually admitted. "Maybe he'd chase after me, or I'd end up being at odds with him once I graduated from a Huntsman's Academy."

Blake had hoped ─ as she had been contemplating leaving the White Fang ─ that they could one day reconcile. That after she had managed to affect change on the world or help build a better one without hurting innocents, they could meet again and talk. She wasn't delusional enough to think that they could ever be as close as they had once been, but she valued her friendship with him as much as she did Ilia's.

"I mean, I know we're all mortal," she continued, her eyes still looking into the inky blackness of her coffee. "It was a fact that we could all get killed because what we were doing, but Adam just seemed so─"

"Invincible?" Ilia finished for her, Blake looking up to meet her old friend's raised eyebrow.

The cat faunus nodded. "Yeah."

They lapsed into silence after that. Blake was sure that Tukson was still in the area from the sounds coming from the kitchenette a ways away, but he'd likely figured out what they were talking about and decided to stay out of it. For this she was thankful.

"Hey," Illia started, Blake turning to find her friend looking out the window into the clear night. "Remember that time the three of us found those ruins?" the chameleon faunus looked to her with a glint in her eyes and a nostalgic grin.

"The one where you fell into a pit?"

Ilia nodded, laughing. "Kali was furious. I'd never seen Adam so terrified of a benign housewife."

That was hard to forget. Adam had discovered some ruins exploring the island one weekend and had convinced both Blake and Ilia to take some time off from their studies with Blake's mother to see what was in them.

It had turned out to be a castle of some sort ─ or what was left of it, at least ─ and the three had enjoyed seeing what they could find. The highlight of their foray had been the wide throne room lined with stone pillars and decorated with banners so old and tattered, they couldn't tell what was printed on them anymore if there had ever been anything in the first place.

The sad bit about exploring old places like those, though, was that you couldn't always be sure what was safe. After taking the time to play princes and princesses, each of them taking a turn on the old stone throne and the remaining two waiting on them like servants, they had decided to see what other rooms the castle had left.

What they discovered was a some weakend flooring and one of the scariest falls of Blake's life. And while she had managed to grab unto something part of the way down, she'd been unable to catch Ilia. The other girl had been injured and pinned under some rocks.

They'd eventually found out it was just some bruising, but the ordeal had been terrifying in itself, made more so when Blake and Adam had managed the climb down and found out that they weren't strong enough to lift the rocks that were pinning Ilia in place. The eldest of the three eventually opting to run back to the village and seek help while Blake kept Ilia company.

It would be almost an hour before Blake's father arrived at the head of a small search party.

Ghira Belladonna was a big man, and many would have considered him more than a little intimidating because of it, but that was the first time Blake had seen her father shaken. He was pale in the yellow glow of the searchlights they had used, and had quickly taken Blake into his arms once they had been pulled out of the pit and Ilia was being seen to by the local doctor.

Kali, on the other hand, had been furious. Not only had Blake and Ilia avoided their lessons for the day, they had gone off to gallivant in the dangerous areas of the island without supervision or informing their parents of their whereabouts.

All the same, it was a fond memory now, even her parents had found something to laugh about when talking about it at get-togethers.

"Mom could be really scary when she wanted to be." Blake eventually replied as she took a sip and joined Ilia in looking out the window. Tukson's shop was located in downtown Vale, and afforded him a view of the city's bustling nightlife.

Ilia nodded. "I guess she'd have had to be to keep someone as big as Ghira in check, eh?"

And they continued like that for a while, talking about life on the island when the three of them had been young and growing up together.

They spoke of the little school that was run by Blake's mother once many of the children were old enough.

They spoke of joining some of the fisherman on their trips out to see when they wanted to get away from the island and its mundane repetitiveness.

And many times they spoke of more adventures into the continent and the ruins that were scattered all around it, finding unfinished ships and palaces still filled with treasures that they would occasionally bring home to show to their households: Blake and Ilia to the Belladonna's, and Adam to the uncle that he lived with.

Blake remembered pretending to be pirates when they uncovered a half-completed ship in a large drydock that had been partially fitted with cannons. Ilia had been captain, then, and she her first mate while Adam was the Commodore sworn to hunt them down for their crimes.

It had been good times, and while Blake was thankful that Ilia had brought all of it up.

This was probably as good an eulogy as Adam was ever going to get, people that had loved him and known him as the starry-eyed young boy that just wanted to adventure and see the world for what it was, and not the bitter revolutionary that saw nothing but repayment in kind.

When the pot between them was empty and the two had exhausted their stories, Blake sent her friend a grateful smile.

"Thanks, Ilia." Her voice was breathy from both laughter and exhaustion. She'd had an extraordinarily long day. "I needed that."

Her old friend just returned it with a smile of her own. "I needed it, too, I think. I'd loved him, too. Not the way you did, maybe, but I still did." She leaned back against the cushioned chair she sat on, letting her head roll back. "I'm happy for you, at least. I know you weren't happy with us anymore, and I think it's good that you're managing to move on.

"I'm just sorry that this all had to happen while you were doing it."

Blake's eyes looked back to her cup before she knew what she was doing, the guilt sinking back in. She was supposed to be running away today, celebrating her newfound freedom, not mourning the sudden death of someone she'd spent almost all of her life beside.

"But please don't feel guilty about it, Blake." She felt Ilia's hand touch her own, the other girl reaching across the table to do so. "Adam had it coming. If it wasn't today, it was going to happen at _some_ point."

The cat faunus nodded, but didn't really believe it. At least if he'd been alive, he'd be have had a chance at redeeming himself. It was like what Marianne said: second chances should be encouraged. She had wanted to give Adam that chance one day, but now it was gone.

It did make her wonder, though.

"So what brings you to Vale, Ilia?" she asked.

"You mean besides looking for you?" The girl asked with a grin and a squeeze of Blake's own hand.

"I mean you were just as surprised to see me alive as I was to find out Adam was dead." the raven-haired girl said with a shrug. "I figured you were only looking for me in case I _was_ alive and hid out here. So is that the official story? Does the White Fang think I'm dead?"

Ilia responded with a shrug off her own. "At least for now. Officially, you're marked as missing in action, but presumed dead. The guy manage to take down Adam on his own, Blake. If you were fighting besides him, you probably didn't make it, too. Of course, that might change once people start seeing you around town, but you can be sure no one's out there looking for you." Her friend gave her an affectionate pat. "Don't worry. I'll make sure your parents know you're okay. I won't tell them where you are, but they'll feel better knowing you're not dead."

She'd appreciate that, and she made it known with a smile and her own free hand reaching out to grasp both of Ilia's own.

"Thanks, Ilia. That means a lot."

The girl waved it off, Blake thought she caught some pink in the girl's cheeks, but thought better of it.

"Don't worry about it, Blake." Ilia pulled her arms back and settled them around her cup. "As for what I'm doing here, well, it has to do with handling Adam's position in Vale. We can't really leave people here without any kind of leadership, and while Adam was only running things indirectly, he'd apparently left some unfinished business here that I'll be looking into so I'll be in for a week or two."

A few more hours of relaxed talking went by. Tukson did eventually join them after he came in with a second pot and some snacks. Ilia even offered to look into easing him out of White Fang duties so it'd be easier for him to make a run for it, too, on the condition that if he ever got caught anyway to not rat her out.

Blake would later collapse into the bed of her hotel room close to dawn, exhausted and a bit more lighthearted despite the stressful day and the sad news.

And the last things that she thought of was her eyes slowly closed was of a boy and two girls, playing as royalty in a ruined palace throne room.

~TtT~

Hei Xiong ─ or Junior as he liked to be called ─ eyed the glass that had been placed on his desk.

It was distinctly unimpressive at first glance, though he supposed most whiskeys he'd encountered since he'd started collecting alcohol for more than just getting drunk were like that. Upon closer inspection, though, the drink was darker than what he'd usually have, but Junior would have considered that a minor difference at best.

The smell was what caught his attention the most. From the moment the bottle had been opened and the drink poured out into the glass, the club owner was made to notice the strength of the drink. It reawakened his senses and he'd felt some of the exhaustion of the day fall away.

Without preamble, he picked up the glass and took a sip.

It went down smoothly as he drank. No sensation of being kicked in the face like he'd had with some of the other drinks, but the fire was noticeable and pooled in his stomach. Junior took a deep breath as he enjoyed the sensation and the taste of the fruit.

That was one impressive drink.

"I've always wondered what this would taste like." Junior said as he turned from the glass he held. The amber liquid stuck to the glass and slowly cascaded back into the pool below. "You spend long enough in the industry of providing people with good drink and you start to know what the rare blends are." His free hand reached out and picked up the dark-colored bottle where the drink had been poured from.

It was triangular in shape to allow it to be laid on its side without rolling off the table. It also lacked much of the lavish decoration he'd come to recognize from the more expensive brands that were circulated and sold. The logo on its face was one of a mountain that rose from a pair of crescents.

"Monte Cristo." He breathed. "Twelve-year."

It was perhaps the rarest drink in all the kingdoms. It didn't help that the stuff was usually not sold normally but instead put up for auction twice a year. Only the wealthiest of the wealthy could afford it, and it was jealously guarded by those that did. It's severely limited stock only only served to heighten the mystery surrounding it. One hundred bottles a year was not a lot at all, and Junior wasn't making nearly enough to be able to bid on one.

And now that Junior had managed to taste it, he could understand: he wouldn't be willing to share this either, and this was supposed to be the lowest on their damn line.

"I never thought that I'd get to try this stuff in my lifetime." He chuckled at the idea. "And I don't know why you'd be willing to share a glass of this with me ─ much less a whole bottle."

"This request means a lot to us," The blue-eyed man sitting across him shrugged almost casually. "And we thought that a man in your line of work would appreciate something like this." He smirked in amusement. "It seems you do."

At this Junior laughed. "Liking it is an understatement. Monte Cristo is Remnant's rarest whiskey. I'd be an idiot to not be willing to give the stuff a try."

All of this also told Junior one thing: this person was loaded. And maybe desperate if they were willing to part with this just to soften him up. He should have also heard about them before, though. Junior liked to keep track of all of the most prominent families in the City of Vale, a point of pride considering his line of work outside of The Club.

Which begged the question:

"How did you find me?"

"I asked questions; I offered gifts; I promised that I'd bring you business." the man answered casually. "The people that work for you did the rest."

That made sense. It didn't answer the question of who these people really were in the big picture, but Junior also knew not to look a gift horse in the mouth with people like this. All that bothered him was how good it seemed to be at first glance.

"So what can I do for you, mister Arc?" Junior finally asked as he put down the bottle and enjoyed another sip.

Charles Arc sent him a winning smile. "My wife and I have a relative of ours somewhere in this city. We were hoping you'd be able to track him down for us and arrange a meeting."

That seemed simple enough.

"Is this relative expecting you?" He needed details, however.

"Unlikely."

"And how old is this person?"

"Seventeen, I believe."

"Estranged relatives?" It wasn't uncommon for family members to want to reconcile. But it also wouldn't have been the first time that Junior had to consider what made the family become estranged in the first place.

"Yes." Charles replied with a quick nod. "This is actually the main reason why we're in Vale."

Junior nodded. He could understand why he never heard of them before if they hadn't actually been to the city until recently.

"Would you mind sharing the story?" He was going out on a limb. Not everyone was willing to discuss things, but this time it was out of curiosity. He'd been presented with something that was clearly worth a lot of Lien, and over what appeared to be either a runaway or people wanting to reconcile.

Charles just sent him a smirk before replying: "The boy had run away from home, and his father got in contact with me to see if I could find him. He couldn't leave himself because he has a family to take care of, and since the boy had run off to join Beacon, he figured I'd be better suited to talking the child out of it."

Huh. He hadn't expected the man to be that straightforward with him. Most people weren't and largely preferred to keep family issues private.

What he was thinking must have shown on his face because Charles deigned to give him a clarification:

"We've little reason to hide this from you, mister Xiong. We think giving you this information might make finding him easier, or at least easier for you to trust us with a young man." he began, "We'd like to find the boy as soon as possible and get all of this sorted out before he does something rash. He has had no formal training and supposedly doesn't have his aura unlocked, yet he is going to find a way to get himself into a Huntsman's Academy. I'm not overly fond of the idea of one of my own dying just because they weren't ready."

Junior nodded. That all sounded reasonable, and he could appreciate the man's consideration of his own position. Junior had been involved in crime when he still worked for his late father, and while he still helped out the occasional criminal ─ Roman Torchwick came to mind ─ he largely avoided things involving children. Seventeen was just above the age of majority in all the kingdoms, but it was still close enough that he didn't want to mixed up if things weren't exactly as they appeared. This gave him an out if it went south.

"Alright." The owner of The Club closed his eyes as he took another sip of his drink. "I think you've drastically overpaid for this, but I can't say I mind. Is there some way I can contact you?"

After the brief exchange of scroll numbers, the three stood as Junior moved to show them the door. It was then that the lady, Marianne Arc, spoke:

"Mister Xiong, you wouldn't happen to have contacts in the real-estate industry, do you?"

Junior blinked. That wasn't something he'd expected after what they just discussed, but he had a bit of an idea where this was going.

"I do, actually." he said with a nod as he moved ahead of them to get the door. "One or two people, but they're in the decent firms. Good reputation."

The smile the faunus woman sent him was radiant.

"Excellent!" She said as Charles stepped out and she moved to follow. "Charles and I might be looking for a more permanent residence in the city and we were hoping you'd be able to help us find one."

Junior shrugged. It wouldn't be a problem on top of whatever else they had already agreed to pay him besides the whiskey that still sat on his desk. He provided the lady with the contact details of one of the agents.

"Thank you for your time, mister Xiong," Charles extended a hand that Junior shook. "And we hope you like the drink. We were hoping you'd be amenable to working with us in the future, too. I'm sure we could come up with an arrangement."

Oh now that was worth thinking about. If these guys paid as well in the future as they did now, it might be worth being on retainer for them.

Ah yes, he'd forgotten something.

"Also," He'd called out to them as they crossed the hallway that lead to the public area of the club. "What was the boy's name?"

Charles turned back and grinned.

"Jaune Arc."

~TtT~

"The boss is expecting you." the bouncer said, giving Jaune a nod and letting him through. The people lining up at The Club's entrance groaned at seeing someone cut the line and get to go straight in. The bouncer called for one of the other guards stationed inside before turning back to Jaune. "Fred will take you to the boss. Please enjoy your time at The Club."

Jaune nodded his thanks to the man at the door and followed the person waiting inside for him in.

Right behind the doorway was what he'd have called a waiting room. It was fairly small and decorated sparsely with pictures of what Jaune guessed was other parts of the club sans any people. There was a plush bench laid against the walls on either side of him.

"Mister Arc." Came the voice of the man standing in front of the doorway that no doubt lead into the club proper. "This way, please."

Fred was an altogether unimpressive man at first glance, slightly shorter than Jaune and dressed in the same black coat and red tie ensemble. The sunglasses and hat did not help.

They walked down the long, unlit hallway until they eventually entered the club proper.

Jaune blinked as the energy of the place hit him. He could feel the temperature rise markedly and feel the vibrations coming at him from the air. Instinctually, a hand rose to cover one of his ears.

A raised dance floor looked to take up most of the space, with an even higher stage relegated to the DJ. Around it were tables and booths for the guests to rest in, and above that what looked like private boxes with tinted glass for privacy.

My, this club was very different from some of the bar they had back home. Looked like more of a party place than a place people went to drink, even though he could see alcohol on the tables of many of the patrons.

Not wanting to get lost, however, Jaune kept an eye on Fred as the man walked towards the narrow staircase to the corner of the hall.

"The boss would normally entertain you at the bar,," the man told him when they entered the stairwell, the music from outside growing softer with the concrete wall between them. "But there's been a change of plans, so he'll be meeting you in his office."

That made sense. It'd be a bit hard to talk business with Junior with all the noise in the background. This also made keeping all of this quiet even easier.

As Jaune had guessed, the second floor was filled with more booths, but he could see quite a few boxes walled with tinted glass. Some of the doors to the were manned by another man dressed in a black coat and red tie, and he could spot some plaques over the doorways.

Man, this place was heavily guarded.

They didn't stop at the second floor, though, climbing several more flights up until they arrived at what Jaune should have considered the third floor. At the landing was another guard who stood beside a door with his arms crossed.

"Fred." the guard at the door sent Jaune's guide a nod.

"Hey, Ronnie. I'm with Jaune Arc. He's got an appointment with the boss."

Ronnie sent Jaune a smile. "Ah, the boy Apollonia sent our way. Glad to know the lady still likes us enough to give us business." He stepped aside and opened the door. "The boss is with some guests right now, but I've been told you're expected so go right in." He turned away from them and stuck his head inside the door before they could go through. "Oi! One of the boss's guests is here. Let them through!"

Jaune heard the chorus of answers from inside, but he couldn't make out what was said.

Ronnie stepped aside to allow them room to pass. "You guys have a good one." he said with a grin which Jaune matched with his own.

Unlike the club below, this room was a lot calmer. Nothing immediately impressive, but it was pretty homey. There was a bookcase that took up half a wall and a long table laid out along the rest of it. Plush, leather couches laid against the walls to Jaune's right.

The Arc could count about fifteen people inside, all dressed in the same uniform that Fred and Ronnie had been in, and all seemed armed.

Jaune felt that he could have felt nervous, walking into a room filled with armed men, but the cheerful reception they got helped ease his growing tenseness.

Invitations to dinner were given, some were playing cards at the long table to Jaune's left over some drinks. A few of the men on the couches were reading that day's newspaper and those unoccupied even gave Jaune a friendly wave.

At the end of the antechamber was a double-door. Fred's pace sped up so he could place both his hands on the handles.

Opening the doors a crack, he spoke: "Jaune Arc, boss."

A pause.

"Send him in."

Without missing a beat, Fred turned to Jaune and gave him a nod.

Junior kept a nice office, if a bit smaller than he might have expected. The walls were painted cream and the floor covered in a dark-green carpet. Jaune saw a portal of an older man occupying most of the wall on one side and a large screen on another. Along the center of the room was a long coffee table flanked on both sides by the same plush couch that was placed in the room before.

The owner of The Club sat behind the desk right under the window, and he seemed to be chatting with two other people that were occupying each of the two couches.

Jaune couldn't tell much about the man's size from here, but he could see that Junior seemed to have a pleasant enough demeanour. The smile pulled at the edges of his face and highlighted his mustache and beard. Dressed in the same clothes as his guards sans the coat, he matched the decor of his office quite well.

The two people he was speaking with caught Jaune's attention a little more. One was a man that looked to be in his fifties with graying blond hair and blue eyes. He was dressed richly in a navy-blue overcoat and wore a gray vest underneath. Jaune also spotted a gauntlet worn on each arm. Across the man was a faunus woman ─ or so Jaune guessed from the horns on her head ─ wearing a brown dress with a black jacket.

"How's everything downstairs, Fred?" Junior asked, turning away from the two people before him and looking to Jaune's guide.

"Business as usual, Boss." Fred answered.

"And the Twins?"

"Enjoying themselves, but not causing trouble."

Junior nodded. "Good to hear." He gave Fred a long look, as though contemplating something. "Why don't you take the rest of the evening off, eh? Go have Jin take over for you, he's bored out of his mind and we have enough people guarding the office for the night."

Fred nodded his thanks and turned to Jaune before leaving. "You have a good one, kid."

And the door was shut.

"Jaune Arc," Junior called for his attention, gesturing that he take a seat on one of the couches. The youngest person in the room immediately felt his back tense a bit at the address. "Madame Corleone told me that you'd lost some documents."

Jaune took a seat beside the woman and immediately looked into a pair of golden eyes. She sent him a disarming smile.

"Y-yes." He stammered, turning away to Junior. "I'm enrolling to Beacon this year and I lost my documents on the trip. The deadline is within the week, and it would likely take longer than that to get legal copies back."

That was his cover and he was sticking to it. Jaune decided he'd admit the truth to Junior if asked, but he'd likely have to pay less if Junior just thought it was a quick replacement to real documents rather than an outright forgery.

Junior nodded while the man sat across Jaune and the woman took out a scroll and put it to his ear, likely calling someone. Jaune sent Junior a meaningful look, but the older man waved him off.

"They're okay." he said. "I can put together the documents fairly quickly, but I'll need you to provide a lot of the relevant information. That sound good?"

"Sure." the boy in question said.

"Excellent. I'll have someone up shortly and you can get your information sorted out."

Jaune had been expecting that. He was going to need to come up with a fabricated history to put into paper, and he had spent time thinking about what would work. He couldn't have Signal be his previous school considering its close proximity to the City of Vale and how easily it would be for whoever was in charge of Admissions at Beacon to just phone them.

"If you don't mind my asking, though," Junior caught Jaune's attention again, the latter looked to find the former giving him a curious look. "Why do you want to become a huntsman?"

"I want to be a hero." Jaune's answer was immediate, almost faster than his ability to register the question. "I want to be able to help people."

"There are many ways to help people." It was the woman beside him that spoke, her voice soft but chiding. Jaune was reminded of his mother on her gentler days. "Farmers help people every day. They're why you or the kingdoms don't go hungry. If it was about saving people's lives, you could be a police officer, a rescuer." She leaned back against the couch and cross her leg, looking at him from the corner of her eye. "A huntsman is hardly the only way to be a hero."

That… had been a good point. He'd spent almost all of his youth living off the stories he'd heard from his father, the books and records on his grandfather and great grandfather and what they'd done to help the kingdoms as a whole.

But while he didn't see those other vocations as anything less, Jaune could admit to himself that there was something more to what he wanted.

"My father is a huntsman. My grandfather was, too. As was my great grandfather." Jaune replied, his back straightening. "I want to be able to live up to a legacy like that."

"Recognition, then." Jaune turned away from the woman to look at the older man sat across him. The said man was putting his scroll away, apparently done with whatever he was doing just now.

Two pairs of blue eyes met, and Jaune couldn't help but feel something familiar about the man in front of him.

"A farmer saves many lives by just producing food for them. A policeman will save those of the city he's assigned in as long as he does his job well. A rescuer much more direct and much more personal." the man continued as he leaned back against his seat and looked down at Jaune from the bridge of his nose. "A huntsman sees far more prestige. He saves the lives of families, villages, cities, kingdoms. They fight where many can see, and where their skills can be appreciated."

He leaned forward and placed his weight on his knees, sending Jaune a grin.

"You want the glory that comes with being a huntsman. A hero that's praised by those around them."

Jaune blinked with his mouth hanging open, unsure of how to respond.

A hand patted his shoulder. Blue eyes appearing much closer to him now and a smile that Jaune could almost call proud. "There's nothing wrong with that, though. It's only fair you got _something_ out of doing good, right?"

And the hand was gone, the man leaning back against his couch as he turned to Junior and gave the younger man a nod.

"I'm reasonably sure it's him. Please make the call."

The call?

"W-what?" the youngest person in the room stammered out as he cast what he was sure was confused looks to the man he had been speaking to, Junior, then the woman.

"There's someone that would like to speak with you, Jaune." It was the woman that answered him.

Someone wanted to speak with him? Was this the person that Junior had said was going to get the information needed to put together his documents? Why the impromptu interrogation on his world views, then? Did they need to verify their identity.

Jaune felt his brows furrow and his hands become clammy as alarm bells began to ring in his head. Had he been setup?

"Hello, Jaune."

W-what was that? That voice…

The screen to his left was on now, and looking to it, Jaune was greeted with the small smile and raised eyebrows of his Nicholas Arc.

~TtT~

Cinder Fall wasn't very fond of their current hideout.

It was crucial that they not attract attention until it was time for them to be made known, and while it had been easy enough to get into Vale with false names and identities, it was another to find a place to stay.

Simply taking up temporary residence in one of the more expensive hotels was bound to catch attention. It might not get them caught by Ozpin immediately, but it would make it easier. Places like that tended to take their service very seriously, and sometimes that involved paying close attention to the needs and actions of their guests.

Purchasing a residence would present a similar problem. While they wouldn't have overeager hotel staff breathing down their neck, the sale would put them on record, and if they really wanted privacy, they'd likely have to get one of the more expensive properties in the city's richer districts. That would likely have caught some attention as land was very expensive within the City of Vale.

An apartment was a no-go. It was too small and sometimes neighbors tended to be more nosey than they ought to be.

So here they were, checked into one of the cheapest inns in the city. It was the type that didn't ask questions considering most of their clientele, and the guests rotated so frequently that no one was ever around long enough to wonder why three of the other guests were coming in and out and sometimes not coming back till the following morning.

Actually, now that she thought about it, that made perfect sense considering the nature of the place.

It wasn't the most pleasant experience, however. The staff was as inattentive as they were willing to be quiet regarding whatever was happening, and the quality of the place was about what was expected considering the price. As such, Cinder had made it a point to handle most of her actual work at Roman's hideout.

While this was hardly ideal, she couldn't exactly make a strong impression if she met with people in a seedy inn. A plush sitting room was far more preferable.

And that was Cinder Fall: half a Maiden and in the service of someone who was perhaps the greatest enemy the Kingdoms would ever face.

Here she was, lying over her covers in a bed that was entirely too stiff for her liking after a long meeting with her mistress and checking in on Roman's progress. Physically, it wasn't anything difficult for her, but this all just felt so mundane, and that's what she found exhausting.

All of this was a bit of a first for her. Cinder had experience dealing with assassinations, recruiting new people to their cause ─ Emerald and Mercury were a testament to that, and looking into the political intricacies between nations. She'd spent the past few years drinking what knowledge she could from her mistress and the older woman's other lieutenants even as Cinder couldn't quite see eye-to-eye with Watts on most matters.

This would be the first time she was being instructed to plan out the complete destruction of a heavily-defended academy and potentially the city it was attached to, and without an army of her own, no-less.

It would require a masterful performance from her and some of the greatest manipulations she could come up with, but it was also more tedious than she had ever thought it would be.

Assassinations only required her to remove one person most of the time. That meant sneaking in, removing their target, and getting out. At most, they'd have to case a location or gain info on the target, but that was both a given, and not too annoying to deal with.

Recruitment was similar. Go in, speak to the prospect, and leave once business was concluded.

Political maneuvering was even easier. Sometimes all she needed was one conversation, and that was it. The promise of some resources and additional benefits just made it easier.

This, _this_ , required her to do a lot of what she did but on a much larger scale.

She wasn't just trying to remove one target, she was trying put down a veritable army of them. She didn't just need to convince one or two people to assist her, she needed an army at her back.

The logistics alone was a pain, and that wasn't mentioning how much longer it took to get things done.

Cinder had brought Torchwick on board so that he could be put in charge of dust acquisition. The White Fang were an insufficiently-armed group and they'd need what help they could get as well as the payload needed to actually threaten fortified structures like the walls of Vale or Amity Colosseum.

She'd managed to convince Adam Taurus to bring the White Fang onboard. He was a big enough figurehead in the organization, it seemed, that his mere interest in what they were doing was bringing more faunus in, but it was slow work. Last she'd spoken with him, they were planning to up recruitment in Vale in preparation.

And this was her issue. She had plans in place and people that seemed competent enough to be trusted, but there wasn't much else for her to do!

Oh she'd meet with Torchwick every few days and speak with Adam via scroll. She'd studied the flight schedules going to Beacon from Vale and vice versa, but she was stuck waiting. Cinder did not have the resources to do much else. Hell, she couldn't even gather more information in what was going on inside the school because she had no agents there and classes weren't even in session yet.

Her mistress told her this was a learning experience for her. One that would allow her to improve further as both a leader and an agent while getting the rest of the Maiden powers once she succeeded.

Cinder was unsure if patience was supposed to be one of the lessons taught. She'd become too used to just being able to get almost everything done herself, and sadly she was not singularly powerful enough to do that to Beacon.

And Ozpin would likely never talk if interrogated, anyway.

Cinder turned to her side to look out the window of her room. It was a small thing, maybe a meter or so across and placed over the little writing desk the room had been provided with. The city lights shone through clearly since her room was so dark, and Cinder could almost appreciate the beauty of it.

The Grimmlands ─ or the section which Salem had taken as her own ─ was a rather desolate place. While it was defensible and difficult to both find and access, it offered little in the way of beauty. Purple rocks and a dark sky got boring after a while, especially when she had exactly four other people to talk to assuming the other lieutenants were even there.

Vale was a welcome change.

It was then her scroll started ringing.

"Yes, Torchwick?" Her voice sounded about as professional as it always did, though being on her bed on her side in a dark room would hardly be intimidating, Cinder imagined.

Pity he couldn't see her. She'd answered to audio-only.

"We have a problem." He told her. No niceties were needed.

Oh goodie. She'd have something to do after all.


	4. III - The Players - Part II

**So here's another chapter of Ancestors. This chapter wraps up the introduction of all our major players and all of the main point of view characters that I'll be using for this fic. Some of you will have likely noticed the change to the lead characters on the fic tags now, too.**

 **Now for those of you that are pointing out that Jaune is a selfless person that just wants to help people out, I'm not really going to disagree, but I'd like to think that there is _some_ selfishness involved in his decisions.**

 **Both Charles and Marianne do point out that there are other ways for him to help people without being a Huntsman. The decision to do so despite these options being available for him shows a certain level of selfishness because one of the possible reasons for his actions was upholding a family legacy. The desire for glory could be completely unconscious on his part, and he wouldn't really think about it unless another person brings it up.**

 **There's also the fact that the Jaune we see in the series has already been shaped by the events in canon and the experience of having a team in Beacon. This Jaune hasn't even reached that point yet.**

* * *

 **Chapter III**

 **The Players - Part II**

Jaune Arc had not expected this.

Well, in retrospect, he should have expected _something_ when his father had pointedly left Crocea Mors in the sitting room on the night Jaune was planning to leave. His sisters also had a bad habit of being overprotective, the fact that they didn't try to dissuade him via scroll was a red flag in itself.

Hell, he hadn't even turned the thing off because he was admittedly worried something would happen while he was away and he wanted to be reachable. Not the most intelligent decision Jaune could think of, but he loved his family enough.

Really, he'd expected his dad to ride all the way to Vale to try and convince him to come home, but hoped that Nicholas would be too busy to actually leave Ansel. It wasn't cheap to feed a family of nine ─ now eight ─ after all, and for a long time Nicholas was the only breadwinner.

In a way, it made sense for his father to ask someone else to track him down.

"Hey Dad!"

"Hello, Jaune." Nicholas had an amused glint in his eye and a look on his face that vaguely reminded Jaune of pride. "I'm glad that you managed to make it to Vale. Everything alright, I hope?"

"Yeah." He found himself answering before really thinking about it. "I avoided taking any bullheads, so I took the trains. It took a little longer, but I didn't have any problems with my motion sickness and the view was worth the added time."

Nicholas laughed, shaking his head. "Good, good. Your sisters were fretting about that, so I think you made the right decision. You should give your mother and sisters a call after this, though. They've been worried about you and the only reason why they haven't called is because I said it might spook you."

That made sense. He was thankful that his father was considerate enough to do that even though Jaune had been half-expecting a call anyway.

"Anyway," resumed Nicholas, the look on his face going from good-humoured to formal. "I'm glad Charles and Marianne managed to get a hold of you before you enrolled into Beacon."

Jaune couldn't say he was surprised by his father's desire to talk him out of it.

"Dad," The younger Arc couldn't quite say he still wasn't disappointed considering he'd already gotten all the way here. He'd proven his determination to do this, and he had hoped that Nicholas would at least respect that. "I said I really did want to do this. I know you and Mom don't approve, but you're not stopping me."

Nicholas nodded with a raised hand, stopping Jaune from saying anything else. "I know you were determined. It's why I left the sword out for you, Jaune."

That gave Jaune pause. He looked away from his father and turned his eyes to the sword at his waist. He'd been waiting for almost three weeks for his Dad to leave the sword out somewhere where Jaune could take it. Nicholas was a stickler for safety and leaving a weapon out in the open was exactly something that he avoided.

On occasion, though he did leave it over the fireplace to dry after cleaning and oiling the blade, and it had been then that Jaune had taken it.

It warmed his heart that his father had purposefully left the heirloom out for him even though it confused him a bit.

His father hadn't seem to have noticed Jaune doing that and continued speaking with a shrug: "If you were going to be going all the way here to do something that might get you hurt, I thought you ought to at least have a reliable Weapon. Crocea Mors is the most reliable weapon anyone in the family can ever have."

"Thank you." Jaune said quietly, unable to really think of anything else to say on that matter.

This did bring up another thing, though: "So if you're not trying to stop me from enrolling into Beacon and you even left me Crocea Mors to make sure I'd have a better chance, what's all this about?"

Jaune felt his eyes furrow. Had his Dad really just wanted to check on him, he could have at least tried calling first rather than resorting to whatever this was. His own blue eyes turned from Nicholas to the older man sitting across him ─ Charles, Nicholas called him.

"You want to be a hero, Jaune." Nicholas started, stating the obvious.

"Yeah?" The younger man looked back to the man on the screen with a raised eyebrow.

"You want to be hero, but that doesn't necessarily mean you have to be a Huntsman."

No. No it did not. And while he didn't completely agree with what Charles had said earlier about wanting glory, he couldn't say that helping people through other means was going to satisfy him. He had a legacy to uphold, and it was unfair that he wouldn't be able to do that just because his Dad decided that being a Huntsman wasn't for him.

"So what do you want me to do? Enroll for the police academy? Volunteer for the rescuers?" He'd almost snapped and he felt an angry fire begin in his chest. He hadn't gone all the way here just to end up not going, not after spending the last few years saving money so he could afford the trip and whatever money Junior was going to be charging him for the fake documents.

Junior!

Jaune looked away from his father and turned to the seat where the man that had promised him the documents was sitting only to find him gone. Had he left while they were talking? Jaune hadn't noticed anything, but he may have been too preoccupied to have been paying attention.

"No." It was Charles. It was the first time the man had spoken since Jaune's father had appeared on the screen. "That's what Marianne and I are here to do, Jaune." He leaned forward and clasped his hands together while putting his weight on his knees. The older man's blue eyes stared into Jaune's own. "We're here to give you another option, and one where you still get to live the life you want."

"But it doesn't involve Beacon." Jaune could imagine that this is what the man was going to lead up to. His father wouldn't have been relieved that Jaune had been found before he could apply, after all.

Charles shook his head. "No, it does not."

Before any other words could be said, Marianne ─ from her place beside Jaune ─ spoke up:

"Jaune," she said with a gentle hand on his shoulder. "You have no combat training. Nicholas told as this when he contacted us to see if we'd be willing to make contact with you."

The young man blinked at the words and turned to the section of carpet between his feet.

No, no he didn't, but he had been intending to catch up once he was in Beacon. It was a school where they were expected to learn how to fight the Grimm so it would have made an excellent place for him to learn.

"That isn't to say that you couldn't have caught up in time ─ Nicholas has told us you're a fast learner so you might have landed on your feet somehow, but there's another problem, Jaune." There was a squeeze on his shoulder, and the sensation of pins pricking at his skin from where her fingers touched him. Jaune looked up, blue eyes meeting gold.

"Jaune," she continued, "initiation for the Huntsman Academies involves live combat against the Grimm."

W-what?

Live combat?

But they were students. They were kids, essentially, they wouldn't be insane enough to throw them into a dangerous scenario like that before they were ready, right?

His thoughts must have shown on his face, because Charles caught in attention by adding: "There are combat schools that attendees of the Academies are expected to have attended. You normally learn to fight Grimm there, and it's in Beacon that you learn to specialize in it. Even in some cases, those that graduate from combat school may opt to go into other fields rather than become Huntsmen."

"There's also the issue of Aura." It was his father this time, Jaune turning to see the older man pursing his lips while furrowing his brows. "You don't have it unlocked, Jaune, and most people that would be attending Beacon have likely had their for years. It's part of why everyone is okay with sending the prospective students off to fight the Grimm, they're less likely to get hurt than normal people would."

Aura. That… was a good point. He'd heard of it from the local huntsmen, and had even heard his father discuss it on very rare occasions but it didn't usually come up because of Jaune's and his family's rather peaceful lifestyle. For all he could see, his Dad's aura was never a factor in anything that they did, and therefore didn't do anything.

He knew in theory what it was supposed to do, however: protect the body, accelerate healing. It was something that all huntsmen and huntresses had. The fact that he didn't have it meant he'd be less protected than his would-be peers come the initiation that his Dad was talking about.

"Between the lack of any combat training and the lack of aura, it would be very fortunate if you could even come out of initiation alive at all, Jaune." Marianne added while transitioning to giving him consoling pats on the back.

Jaune, meanwhile, just felt drained.

Assuming all of this was true, it likely would be. He clenched his eyes shut as he took a deep breath.

Aura and training were the biggest clinchers there. He had been willing to put in extra work and perhaps even ask for assistance from his teachers in order to not fall behind too much, but this much may be more than he could manage since he'd need this on the first day rather than not.

"So I go home, then." He said, his voice sounding as defeated as he was feeling.

"No." Nicholas's voice held a firmness that reminded Jaune of the time he had asked his father for training the first time and was declined. "I never trained you because I didn't want you to be like me, to be a huntsman. I'd been forced into the role by my own parents and was never given the chance to make my own choice.

"I'd never wanted that for my own children, for you and your sisters. When Juniper and I got married, I promised myself that I'd give our children all the time and opportunity to explore the world and decide what they really wanted to be."

He chuckled to himself, not really looking at Jaune anymore even though the latter was now paying close attention.

Nicholas continued: "Your grandparents didn't like that, especially after your aunt passed away and I was their last remaining child. I was their heir, and the heir to the Arc legacy. The only way our traditions would continue was if I passed them on to you, and I made it very clear to them I wasn't going to."

Jaune remembered that story, or at least the bit about his grandparents not liking how his Dad chose to live his life. It's why they never visited them. Hell, Jaune didn't even know where his grandparents lived, or if they were even alive.

"But you did exactly that, Jaune." Jaune's father looked back to him and gave the younger man a wide, proud grin. "You were doing so many odd jobs after school and during the weekends, your Mom would sometimes ask me if you might burn yourself out. I still get a few questions every day asking about how you're doing out there in the city since you left to 'pursue your dreams'" The smile was fond and the way his Dad said it made Jaune think that the older man could have used air quotes.

"But here we are, still, Jaune." Nicholas's hand appeared on-screen, gesturing to the situation. "You've seen some of what the world has to offer, and decided that this is still where you want to be, and I think I can respect that." The older man's blue eyes looked to the two other people in the room: Charles and Marianne.

"So when you left, I got in contact with Charles and Marianne. They're relatives of ours, and very good at what they do. Charles is actually the head of the our family, and has been looking for a successor for some time now." Jaune looked to the older man to see him nod in confirmation. "He's agreed to train you provided you meet two conditions.

"The first is that you become his heir. There's a lot implied in that, so he's going to have to discuss that with you after this."

The youngest Arc in the room gave his father a nod but didn't say anything. He couldn't think of anything _to_ say right now.

"The second is that you forgo ever enrolling in Beacon or _any_ of the Huntsman Academies."

"But─" Jaune was stopped by Marianne patting him strongly on the shoulder, causing him to jolt forward.

"An interesting thing you'll want to know is that you don't need to graduate from an academy to get a Huntsman's license." She grinned down at him.

Jaune blinked before his brows furrowed. "Really?"

She nodded, her smile glinting in the light of the room. "Yes. It's common enough that people from the frontier territories take up arms and unlock their aura independently or with the help of a local huntsman and set out to protect their livelihoods and families. On occasion, they reach a level of proficiency matching or even exceeding what the academies are capable of putting out.

"All you have to do is to approach one of the schools and ask for a licensure exam. If you pass, you're an official huntsman, though some people are willing to hire even an unlicensed one as long as they get the job done."

Huh. That was admittedly unexpected.

He also couldn't say this was too bad an offer. It almost seemed too good to be true in fact, especially considering the whole thing about what he was supposed to expect from the Beacon's initiation.

"That…" He breathed deeply before exhaling into a dry chuckle. "That was one _hell_ of a sales pitch."

The room's amusement was noticeable immediately. Nicholas kept grinning while Charles looked about as smug as a man like himself ought to have been at successfully convincing someone to see things his way, even though Jaune hadn't really agreed. Marianne nodded down at Jaune, seemingly impressed.

"Sharp." Charles looked at him approvingly. "Good. That will serve you well in the future."

~TtT~

Cinder Fall decided that Ilia Amitola struck a very different first impression from Adam Taurus.

While Taurus clearly aimed to look both imposing and confident, Amitola didn't seem to see the need to. The faunus girl struck Cinder as an everywoman, and one that didn't quite fit the charismatic speakers she'd encountered that made up the White Fang's officers. Her short stature and unimpressive choice in clothing further reinforced this, as did her body language. Taurus usually opted a position that placed him at the center of attention and adopted a posture to match.

Amitola was seated at the edge of one of the couches and was nursing what appeared to be a glass of water.

"Good evening, miss Amitola." Cinder greeted as she stepped out of the darker corners of the room and moved to take the couch opposite the person she was meeting. "I hope you haven't been waiting long."

They were using one of Roman's spare hideouts in the City of Vale. The man had been kind enough to offer the use thereof when Amitola had been put in contact with him through Junior Xiong when the girl came looking for whoever Taurus had been working with. It was convenient in that if things went south, she, Torchwick, and Amitola could disappear with minimal loss.

"No worries." Amitola shook her head, swirling the water in her glass before putting it down and looking up. Grey eyes looked into Cinder's gold. "I apologize if this seemed sudden, miss Fall, but I needed to get in contact with you, and Adam Taurus didn't really let anyone know he was working with you. Junior was nice enough to put me in touch."

That made sense. Taurus had said that the rest of the White Fang might not have agreed with what he was doing. It was part of why he had been planning recruitment drives to bolster the numbers of the little faction he had been growing in the organization.

"Really?" Cinder tilted her head to one side as she crossed her legs. "I had thought that Adam was speaking for all of your organization when he was working with me."

Amitola smiled ruefully as she shook her head. "Sadly no. That's part of why I've come into contact with you, miss Fall." The younger girl wove her fingers together and placed her locked hands atop her lap.

"As you have likely heard, Adam Taurus was recently killed in action."

Cinder nodded. Yes, she'd heard as much. The members of Adam's cell that had been working with Torchwick had informed him within a day, and the news had been relayed to Cinder not long after. What she didn't know, was who was responsible.

"I'd heard, yes," the older of the two said as she crossed her arms and leaned back against the couch. "I was never told about the details, however."

"I didn't think you would be." Amitola answered, picking up her glass and taking a long drink. It had only been Cinder and Ilia in that room in the first place, so all Cinder could hear for a few moments was the sound of the young faunus woman gulping down the water. After the glass had been emptied and put down with an audible exhale, Amitola continued: "There was incident on a train that was due to arrive at Vale about two days ago. It was one loaded with Atleisan weapons and dust, and the Vale cell was reportedly short-handed enough that Adam took the mission himself.

"From what we've managed to gather, he'd had a run-in with a huntsman ─ or at least someone of that level. We were called in to recover the supplies and arrived to find him dead on one of the open-air cars."

Cinder blinked. That was far simpler than she'd expected, and certainly not how she expected Taurus to ever get killed.

"Whoever was on that train must have been remarkably powerful if they were alone." Cinder pointed out with raised eyebrows. "Do you suspect it was a setup?."

"We did, actually, yes." Amitola agreed with a nod a brief bite of her lower lip. "It's why I was sent to Vale initially, to investigate the person that had killed him since we'd managed to get his name." She shrugged before looking away. "Supposedly, the story was that he was here looking for a boy ─ a runaway from his family."

"What did you find?" Cinder was intrigued.

"Junior had actually been of help again on that front. He'd helped the man find the kid."

"So it was genuine?" That was an actual surprise.

Amitola shrugged. "From what we've managed to put together over the course of the past few days, it had just been a case of wrong place, wrong time, for Adam Taurus."

Cinder suppressed a scoff at the comparison. She agreed, of course, but it didn't change the fact that this put a very noticeable hamper on her plans.

"Which brings me to the second reason I am here meeting you, miss Fall." Amitola must have read her mind. The girl was looking a bit uncomfortable, but Cinder wasn't sure if it was because of the topic ─ discussing what was to be done in light of Adam's death, or the fact that she was broaching the topic with someone like Cinder Fall. Cinder suspected the former, though, since she doubted this young woman knew anything about her.

"Some of Adam's activities have been brought to light since my arrival in the City of Vale and the beginning of my investigation." the younger woman began, "Sienna Khan ─ the head of our organization ─ tasked me with looking into what he'd been doing at prior to his death, and we've found that he may have been planning to _act independently_."

And Cinder was aware of that. It had been why she opted to approach Adam in the first place. The boy ─ because he certainly behaved like one despite his age ─ had been so angry, so easy to manipulate. All she needed to do was play on his hate for the humans and how helping her would _truly_ put the White Fang on the map again, and he was willing to pit himself against his own kind for it.

"So our leader has decided to suspend all operations of the Vale Cell of the White Fang until we can finish cleaning house." Amitola's gaze met Cinder's, the look in the other young woman's eyes spoke to her of poorly-hidden distrust. "I've been informed that you had been working extensively with Adam these past few months. I am sorry that whatever you were working is suddenly coming to an end, but I'm _sure you understand_ that we need to look after ourselves first." She then shrugged, closing her eyes. "If you are still interested in working with us afterwards, you are welcome to."

The message was as clear as Amitola's blame on Cinder for whatever part the latter may have had in Adam's actions. The White Fang wouldn't pursue anything with her, but she wouldn't be getting their help anymore.

Cinder needed a drink.

Amitola, however, continued speaking. "As of now, we're already rooting out whoever was still supporting Adam's cause. His less-known supporters are likely escaping the city as we speak."

Which also meant that it didn't matter if Cinder took action against the girl in front of her. The word was out so it would matter little. The unsatisfied faunus of the City of Vale would know that Adam Taurus was a traitor to the White Fang, and none of his followers were to be trusted.

However, she still had appearances to keep up.

"Thank you for informing me, miss Amitola." Cinder did her best to sound sincere. "I'm sorry to hear that we won't be working together anymore, but I understand. Traitors are a terrible thing to have to deal with. Had I known…"

The meaningful pause had been enough. Amitola nodded and stood up.

"Thank you for your understanding. I'll be in the city for a few weeks while we finish this up. If there's anything I can help you with on a personal level, please feel free to ask. Adam was a good friend of mine. We grew up together." She turned to the door.

"Actually…" Cinder would have purred had she been in the mood to do so. Sadly she wasn't, so she settled for closing her eyes and sighing. "There is something I would like to know."

Amitola's grey eyes looked at her from the darkness of the edges of the room. The faunus was likely near the doorway now.

"Yes?" she asked.

"You mentioned you were able to find the man that killed Adam."

"Yes." Cinder imagined a nod.

"You aren't pursuing revenge?"

"No. Someone that could put down Adam Taurus isn't someone the White Fang wants to fight right now, especially considering the man was uninvolved and ─ from everything we've found so far ─ completely uninterested in helping the authorities. He didn't report the incident, either, or volunteer for questioning. Since the other passengers hadn't known he was involved, the police don't have anything to go on.

"Officially, the White Fang had never been there."

That was admittedly surprising. Whoever this was certainly made it clear he wanted to be left alone.

But Cinder was curious, and she needed to have a good explanation to her mistress for why the entire plan was no in jeopardy.

"But you have a name?" Cinder pressed, gold eyes now open and glinting down at the empty glass on the gable.

"A name and a face. I can send the full description to you later, if you like."

"And the name?"

There was a pause.

"Charles Arc."

Hours later, when she had given her report to her mistress and shown Salem the photograph of Charles Arc, she had been greeted with something wholly unexpected.

The line had gone silent as Salem stared at the file that was being displayed on the Seer that her mistress kept close to her at all times.

Salem said nothing for almost a full minute, and Cinder wasn't sure what was going through the woman's mind.

"I wish to speak with him, Cinder." The voice was clipped, tightly controlled, all most too much so.

~TtT~

"I'll admit, when I said you could contact me if you ever needed anything, I didn't expect you to do it so soon."

Blake Belladonna was inclined to agree. The encounter with Marianne Arc a few days ago was still rather surreal considering how everything went that day, and she ─ while appreciating both the older woman's consideration and her discretion ─ would have rathered not meet the woman again.

Despite that, here she was, having breakfast with the other faunus at what was apparently the cafe of the hotel Marianne had been staying in with her family. A few tables away, Blake could spot an older gentleman who appeared a decade or so older than Mariann herself sitting across a young man around Blake's own age.

"I hope it isn't too much trouble." Blake replied sheepishly before turning her attention to the tuna and cheese omelet she had been served. "I expected that you and your husband would be busy, so I decided to get in contact you early so you could squeeze me in somehow." The cat faunus took a forkful and put it in her mouth, enjoying the moist, flaky goodness of her favorite fish.

She swallowed the bite and took a sip of water before continuing: "I hadn't expected you to invite me for breakfast the following day."

Marianne giggled as she took a bite from her rather full-looking plate of sausages, mashed potato, fried eggs, bacon, and baked beans. "I'll admit that you caught my interest after we met." She shrugged. "And Breakfast is usually something my husband and I keep free in case things come up. Best deal with the unexpected at the start of the day to get it over with quickly."

Gold eyes blinked down at Blake before the woman added: "How goes your preparation to apply to Beacon, by the way? I think the deadline for submission is in a day or two?"

Blake nodded. "Yes. I already have everything accounted for. I'm just looking for a recommendation since I'm applying as a student trained in the field rather than any of the combat schools."

"That sounds reasonable. Do you already have someone in mind?" Marianne asked as she took a sip of her tea. The brew was strong enough that Blake could smell it from across the table.

"I have a few favors from people I know out of town." Blake replied, "I'm sure I could have something sent over before the day is out."

Marianne nodded before putting down her cup. "I was going to suggest the same thing, as Charles and I have a few contacts."

"Thanks for the consideration. If anything comes up, I might take you up on that offer, is that okay?" Blake nodded her thanks as she cleaned out her plate. She still remembered what the woman had said about giving people second chances, but she still found this level of generosity a bit baffling from a woman she just met. "If it wouldn't be too much trouble, of course."

"Nonsense." The woman waved it off. "It wouldn't be trouble at all, and we'd be more than happy to help. Just make sure you give us enough time to actually get things done."

Blake agreed. "I'm planning to get in touch with my contacts right after this, actually, so I'll be sure to give you a call if anything come sup."

The grin Marianne sent her way was positively blinding. "Excellent!"

Both women spoke of other topics after that. Marianne telling Blake about how the she and her husband had managed to get in touch with Jaune and take him in. It had also been then that Blake learned that the older woman was going out to look at a house that day with the two men to see if they would be purchasing it.

Blake talked about running into one of her childhood friends that was in the city for work. She didn't mention that Ilia was here on White Fang business considering the organization was moving to slow down their operations in light of the things Ilia found out about whatever it was Adam had been doing before his death.

Hells, even Blake had been surprised, and she found herself wondering just how much her one-time lover had been hiding from her before the end.

And that had been the crux of the matter. Adam had died, killed in action after she had cut his car loose from the train.

The same train Charles and Marianne had been riding in.

"Also, there was something I wanted to ask you." Blake said in a whisper that could have been too soft to hear in the busy cafe they were in.

"Ask away, my dear."

Blake's mouth hung open as she contemplated her question. She needed to find out ─ wanted to be sure, but she wasn't sure what she was going to do afterwards. But she also knew that she needed to stop running away. It wouldn't help her in the long-run, and she needed to start somewhere.

She took a deep breath and raised her chin to meet the older woman's gold eyes.

"Did you kill Adam Taurus?"

Marianne blinked. She'd been cutting one of the sausages on her plate with a knife and had been about to lift it to her mouth when Blaked asked her question.

"Who?"

W-who?

"A-Adam Taurus." Blake said with furrowed brows, finding her hands shaking a bit. "H-he was the man that had been with me on the train. The one I left behind."

Adam Taurus was a figure among Faunus, someone that was quickly becoming a household name for their kind, and not just those that were tied to the White Fang. But she should have expected this. Marianne didn't strike her as someone that really kept in contact with what was happening in the Kingdoms. Perhaps the woman lived in the frontier. She certainly dressed like someone that was out of touch with most of the world.

Blake shook her head, and looked up to meet the older woman's eyes again.

"Oh him?" Marianne seemed to have realized who Blake was talking about. "Charles killed him."

The cat faunus felt a great weight lift off her shoulders. She nodded before looking down. Relief was probably not something she should be feeling. The husband of the woman before her was responsible for killing one of her closest friends, someone that had even been her lover at one point.

But she'd already mourned. Both she and Ilia had, drinking tea and toasting to the boy that they had both grown up with, that they had loved in different ways but loved all the same.

Adam Taurus was the first love of her life, and she would never forget that. But he had also turned into a monster.

In some small way, Blake was relieved that she didn't have to put him down herself, as difficult as that would have been to do even had she been strong enough.

When Blake looked up, she found Marianne giving her a look. "He was acting like an animal." the older woman said, "So Charles put him down like one."

All Blake did was nod. "I don't hold it against you, ma'am." Her voice was a whisper, but she was certain Marianne could hear her all the same. "I just wanted to be sure." Her eyes shut as she took a deep breath. "Thank you."

"You loved him." Marianne's voice was equally soft. Blake opened her eyes and sent the woman a smile.

"At one point, yes." Blake blinked at the memories. She was sure she'd already cried her heart out with Ilia a few nights ago, but apparently she wasn't completely done. That… made sense, she supposed. "We grew up together along with another friend of mine."

"Are you still close with this friend?"

Blake paused at the question, not expecting it. She did answer, though: "We stopped talking for a while, but we saw each other a few nights ago. I-it was how I found out." She swallowed the ball forming in her throat. "We're talking again."

Marianne nodded and sent her a gentle smile.

"That's good." She resumed eating, occasionally meeting Blake's eyes. "Hold fast to those you love, Blake. They're part of what makes life worth living, and you can never know when you'll lose them." She paused, giving the younger girl a long look with a raised eyebrow. "But I imagine you already realize that."

"I do." Blake said with a nod as one of the servers approached asked what type of tea she'd wanted to have. Upon answering, she looked back to woman across her.

"Miss Marianne, why the interest in me?" She dropped her voice to a soft whisper to make sure Marianne was all that could hear. "I'm an ex-terrorist that had been involved in a plot that would have killed you and your husband. I have no influence or wealth, and can't really offer you much in return." Blake felt her brows furrow as she bit her lip. "So why?"

"You already know part of why, miss Belladonna." Marianne replied immediately. "My husband and I believe in second chances, but we also believe that goodwill repays itself in kind." The older woman sent Blake a conspiratorial smile. "You may not be able to return the favor now, but you may just do so one day." She shrugged. "There's no guarantee of this, but if it does, I'm sure your sense of honor would compel you to do us a service."

The older woman leaned in, bending down her remarkable height to level her gaze with Blake's.

"And I'll be honest with you, miss Belladonna. From what I understand, you've just given up plenty, and Charles and I know what it's like to lose everything that made up your world. It's a painful and scary experience. I just hoped that giving you a helping hand ─ with some things that barely cost us anything ─ that I could make life just a little bit easier for you."

Blake looked at the older woman as the latter sat back up and proceeded to finish her meal. She couldn't really think of anything to say for a while, but eventually came up with something:

"Thank you, Lady Marianne."

The older woman gave her an indulgent smile as she proceeded to finish her own tea.

"Now how about you let me take care of that recommendation of yours and you spend the rest of the day with us once you've submitted your application? I'd like you to meet Jaune, and maybe see where we'll be moving in for the forseeable future."

~TtT~

Winter Schnee stared at the bottle on her superior's desk.

The dark colored glass was laid on its side, one of the sides of the bottle's triangular shape stopping it from moving. Two crescents sat below a rising mountain with the number fifteen emblazoned on it.

"May I speak freely, sir?" She asked.

"Of course." Ironwood said with a wave of his hand. "We're in private, Winter."

"Did my mother give you that?" Winter gestured an open palm to the thing on the man's desk.

Ironwood blinked, as though he didn't expect the question at all. Winter supposed he wouldn't have. While she liked to consider her mentor to be quite the cultured man, she highly doubted he knew what the drink was, much less what it meant.

"Y-yes?"

Winter nodded. Now for the important question: Did she say anything when she gave it to you?"

Her superior nodded, but seemed to think about it first.

"Willow said it was as thanks for taking care of you." He leaned back against his chair to look at the ceiling. He didn't say anything after that, though.

Willow Schnee was someone that had largely retired from public life. Since Winter had been ten, her mother had been an alcoholic, spending more time alone or in the older parts of the manor with a bottle of something good and not much else. The household and the businesses of the Schnee family had fallen into the hands of the father that had disowned Winter after she had joined the military.

As such, this was a surprise. While using alcohol as a gift was something Winter could certainly imagine her mother doing, giving a bottle of one of the most expensive whiskeys in all the Kingdoms to James Ironwood was not something she expected from the woman that had essentially become a recluse and abandoned her duties to her bloodline and her family.

"Sir, are you familiar with what she gave you?"

Her addressing of him seemed to have snapped Ironwood out of whatever reverie he had fallen into, the man blinking before looking at her as though he had forgotten she was in the room.

"W-what?" he shook his head. "If you're referring to the bottle, I can't say I do outside of the fact that it's a type of whiskey." He turned from her to consider the thing, picking it up and giving the logo in front a once-over.

Winter then explained to him the brand's reputation as well as how much such a thing would cost.

James Ironwood looked floored, and Winter would admit that she found some amusement in it. The man had been a rock for almost as long as Winter had known him so seeing him lean back and rest his arms on his lap in shock was a new experience. It helped that this wasn't the type of surprise that came with bad news, but with very unexpected flattery.

Winter promised herself she'd thank her mother for the sight if ever she got the chance to.

"I-I I hadn't known." Ironwood eventually managed to get out after almost a moment of contemplating. He looked to the bottle that was now lying on the table in front of him. "I hadn't even expected to run into her, you know. I'd just finished a meeting with Jaques when your mother met me as I was on my way out. We spoke briefly and about a few things, and then she gave me this while thanking me for taking care of you all these years, since she had been unable to do so herself."

He shook his head again, more slowly than he did earlier. "Had I known how much just a bottle of this stuff cost, I would have never accepted."

"Declining would have been an insult, I think." Winter told him with a shake of her own head. "I remember when I was younger," Winter remembered one of the stories Klein had told her about someone declining a bottle presented to them by Willow shen Winter's mother had been much younger. The would-be recipient of the gift had walked out of _Winterkroneburg_ , the Schnee's ancestral home, shaking while clutching the bottle so tightly their knuckles had gone white. "Mother didn't take well to people declining it."

All the same, it was surprising her mother had actually done something so proactive. Actually a small part of Winter found it mildly alarming.

What could have possibly caused her mother to come out of the slump she'd been in for more than fifteen years?

"You mentioned you talked for a bit." Winter held her chin with one hand, her brows furrowing. "What was it?"

Ironwood leaned back against his chair. "I'd been thinking about that when you asked me about it." he said, "She said that she was happy that someone had 'taken you in,' and that she felt bad she hadn't been there for you." He gave Winter a look. "She also said that you should visit more, and that you don't need to worry about your father stopping you as long as you tell her beforehand."

That… didn't seem to out of the ordinary outside of the fact that her mother had acknowledged failing as one years before. Scratch that, actually, the whole conversation looked weird. Winter was so unused to Willow actually _caring_. What was going on?

Winter bit her lip as she crossed her arms and contemplated the bottle.

Now that she thought about it, she actually hadn't seen it in a long time. The only reason why she remembered what it was was because her mother had talked to her about it when Winter had been a child. It was one of the few good memories she had of the woman Willow had been, before Jacques Schnee became president of the SDC.

Ironwood probably didn't noticed the look on Winter's face, however. His own eyebrows knit together in a frown as he started wringing his hands.

"There was something else she mentioned, though." He said with a raised finger and a thoughtful look that he directed at Winter. "She mentioned something about being happy that Weiss is also doing something for herself, and that you didn't have to worry about Jacques being in the way."

Winter's eyes widened.

There was only one that WIllow could have possibly been referring to: Weiss's plan to run away to Beacon.

Her mother knew. Her mother had somehow found out about Weiss's desire to run away, and that she had sent an application to Beacon.

Her mother knew and just said that she'd make sure her father wouldn't be able to do anything about it.

Winter thought about the message her mother had given Ironwood, the message that now was clearly meant more for her.

The bottle was a gift, but it clearly served another purpose: it was was a signal to Winter.

She thanked Ironwood, for indulging her, and also asked if she could have the day off the following day. When he accepted she excused herself.

"Wait, Winter." He called to her as she was about to open the door. Winter paused, looking at the man over her shoulder. Ironwood ─ James ─ eyed the bottle thoughtfully before sending her a small grin. "How about you and I share this bottle sometime? I don't want to just drink this considering how pricey this is, but I'd like to share it with you. Willow did give this to me because of you, after all."

Winter nodded and returned the grin. "I'd love to." And then she was gone.

She had an appointment with her mother to schedule.

* * *

 **And we'll leave it at that for now. So the players are starting to come together early, with Blake being introduced to Jaune, and Salem wanting to meet Charles.**

 **And what does Winter have to do with all of this?**


	5. IV - Home - Part I

**So it's been a while since the last update. IRL's been rather busy, and this chapter ended up much larger than anticipated, with Cinder and Winter's segments as well as some of the tie-ins taking longer than expected to come to fruition.**

 **This is what I've managed to finish so far, without the ford count getting too bloated.**

 **Pacing was a bit of an issue for this chapter. Not only was this intended to be one big chapter, this ended up being more setup than for the actual plot that'll be happening moving forward.**

 **Another bit of the experiment for this was that the main characters listed were the ones I wanted to focus on, which sadly meant that some of the suspense would be cut out since the focus would be on at least one character that's considered an antagonist.**

 **Well, here's what we have, and I'll try to streamline stuff better in the future.**

 **Feedback would be greatly appreciated.**

* * *

 **Chapter IV**

 **Home - Part I**

"Why are you here?"

"To learn how to fight."

"Why do you fight?"

"To be a hero."

"And why do you want to be a hero?"

"To protect those I care about, to protect those I don't know." Jaune blinked and met Charles and Marianne's eyes. "To live up to our legacy."

Charles grinned down at him and nodded before giving him a tap on the forehead. The change could be felt immediately.

Jaune blinked.

"Blake told me there was an incantation."

Marianne laughed. "The incantation is for those that haven't said enough."

~TtT~

The house was huge.

That had been the first thought to enter Jaune's mind when he first laid eyes on the house that Charles and Marianne had purchased to act as their home for the duration of their stay in the City of Vale. Jaune had actually asked them why they were going so far as to buy their own house if they had only been planning to stay for half a year.

"It's a matter of necessity," Charles had told him while the three were settling down for dinner in one of the upper observatories. They had glass walls on three sides of the room that gave them a view to the main courtyard as well as the grounds and the wall that lined the property's borders. "We're staying in the City of Vale long enough that we want a place we can control."

He sent Jaune a look.

"We also promised to train you." Charles added right before he took a sip from a glass of water. "And we can't do that with an apartment in the main city."

"That," Marianne added as she helped herself to a large and varied assortment of meats. "And Charles and I like our privacy. This way, you can also visit your parents and sisters more easily, and they'll have a place to stay if they ever come over."

Charles nodded at this. "The Chateau meets our needs perfectly. It was also quite cheap." He laughed.

By 'cheap,' Charles meant the price of a full house and lot inside the City proper. Land wasn't cheap in Remnant, the fact that only about five percent of it was controlled by mankind meant that safe property was generally a prized commodity.

This also meant that one of the best ways to live in the city was to live in one of the many high-rise residences such as apartments and condominiums. A house was largely considered a luxury unless you were living in the frontiers where the risk involved usually greatly reduced the price.

As was the case with _Chateau de la Brume Gris_ , or what Marianne had dubbed the house while she was having the deed drawn up after the purchase. The house was outside the walls of the city and actually a twenty minute drive away ─ almost an hour's walk at a decent pace.

The lack of security was probably part of the reduced price. Jaune was certain that the previous owners ─ an old couple that had had run some manufacturing company that Jaune didn't recognize ─ had a small army of guards or even had a few huntsmen on retainer to keep the property free of Grimm. This would have been a problem for just the three of them if the two older Arcs hadn't flown in a small staff a day after the deed of the house had been transferred to them.

"Good morning, Jaune."

"Good morning, Wolfgang." Jaune rubbed his eyes as he sat up. "What time is it?"

"It's about five." The impeccably dressed man said with his thick accent as he approached the windows and drew the curtains back to let the light in. "The Lady is waiting for you downstairs." The light of the sun was just starting to cross the horizon.

At this Jaune blinked up at the butler as he got off his bed. "Marianne, not Charles?"

"The boss is handling some stuff in town." Wolfgang shrugged. "He said the Lady would take care of you today, but he'd be back for dinner."

Wolfgang was an odd man to Jaune. Between the man's bald head and tattoos ─ Jaune could see them creeping up the man's neck from under the collar, Wolfgang looked more like a hardened criminal than a butler, or at least those he'd seen from the movies. The way the man talked also didn't help. Oh, Wolfgang knew the words he needed to say to sound like a proper butler, but Jaune had spoken with his fair share of people when he used to work in a bar, and during his brief adventure in the City of Vale, and Wolfgang spoke like a man that spent more time in the street than not.

Where did Charles and Marianne find this guy?

Wolfgang informed him that Marianne would be waiting for him in the small training grounds in the back of the house, and that breakfast would be served in the main hall that morning.

Jaune thanked the butler and changed into a tracksuit that his aunt and uncle had gotten for him. He chuckle at the thought as he pulled the jacket on and started tying his shoes. Neither Marianne nor Charles was his aunt or uncle, and his Dad had confirmed as much, but that was what they were telling people.

He'd posed the question of what Charles and Marianne were to his father, but Nicholas had told him not to worry about it. Nicholas did tell him, however, that Charles and Marianne weren't _his_ uncle or aunt, either, and that's what got Jaune wondering. He started forming an idea, but he'd need confirmation from his grandparents to be sure.

Jaune had been afforded his own set of apartments in the Chateau, a set of about five rooms built around a central common area along with his own study and a preceding antechamber. It was a very large change for someone that had once had to share a manor house with eight other people.

It still bothered him just how empty the whole place felt. Sure, Jaune was also given a few members of the household staff ─ servants, they were servants ─ to take care of him, but it wasn't the same. Hells, Jaune could hear his footsteps echo in the hallway leading him to staircase, the undecorated walls making the walk feel longer than it probably was.

Marianne was waiting for him inside a sizeable patch of grass ringed by a wooden fence with several dummies on one side.

"Good morning, Jaune," She saw him just as he was exiting doorway into the yard. Huh, faunus had it good if they could see that sharply in the dark.

"Good morning, Marianne." He returned her grin with his own.

She nodded. "Start stretching. Let's open with a jog around the property to warm you up before we go over your two-handed forms."

~TtT~

The first thing Jaune had been taught was form.

He was made to hold Crocea Mors in both his hands and execute a strike that Charles had shown him. Jaune was made to memorize the placement and movement of his feet, the rise of the blade, and the breathing that accompanied each action.

Once Charles had been sure Jaune was doing it right, he had made the younger man do it again.

A hundred times, and then a hundred times more.

When Jaune was on the grass of the training yard and focusing on breathing for fear of failing to do so if he stopped thinking, Charles approached him and crouched over the younger man, grinning.

"There. That's your conditioning." He said. "We'll make a fighter out of you yet."

And that had become his daily ritual ever since. Charles had shown him all of the basic forms that he needed to learn, and Jaune performed them a hundred times to start his day. Usually, either Charles or Marianne would be there to correct him if he was ever off, but besides that he was left to swing the sword until he was either exhausted, or he finished the count.

It had been absolute hell at first. After the sessions, Jaune would be on the grass of the yard and unable to move. All he could do was look up into the canopy above him and breath to keep himself awake.

He was then given a hearty meal and largely allowed to rest for the remainder of the day. In the evenings, he would speak with Charles and Marianne over dinner. Those talks were always interesting.

Almost a week in, however, something changed: Charles and Marianne started speaking with him as he went through his forms in the morning. It had been innocuous at first, discussing what he was doing at the time ─ his exercises and the purposes thereof ─ but it started to stray to other things; they asked about his family, his sisters, the life he lived before then.

Eventually he had asked why, and the answer had surprised him.

"Why do you think you're doing what you're doing?" Charles had been the one to ask him.

Of course, Jaune answered. "So that I'm familiar with the movement."

Both had nodded. "And?" Marianne had then asked him with raised eyebrows.

Jaune had realized it then. He was expected to practice the forms until they were second nature, until he could do them perfectly without thinking, and repetition was the key. One of the topics they had discussed both during their talks over dinner and during training had been the importance of muscle memory.

He had thrown himself back into his forms the following day, and the days that followed.

"You're progressing well." Marianne had said from above him after he had once again collapsed, her mace _Montemundi_ placed against the earth so she could lean on it. "You're managing to walk to a tree before falling now." She laughed. "Perhaps it's time you actually got to see the results of your efforts." Jaune looked up to her with wide eyes. She grinned down at him. "Tomorrow." She said reassuringly before nodding to him and turning away, returning to her own practice.

Almost half an hour and a very much-needed nap later, Jaune had been newly-showered and trudging his way into the main dining hall when he saw someone occupying the place right beside his seat.

"Blake!"

The girl in question looked up from the book that she had been reading. She sent him a nod as he approached, the pain from his earlier efforts now muted.

"Good morning Jaune." She sent him a small grin. "You look better today."

He tried to laugh, but felt his chest constrict. "Ha!" He managed that much, at least. "Marginally, I guess, yeah. Charles and Marianne are still putting me through the wringer, but they say I'm improving."

She shared his humour. Blake had been there the first day. They'd only known each other a few days then, since she had been introduced to him as a friend of Marianne's when they were looking around and were taken to the Chateau for the first time. He'd been taken to his bed after getting cleaned up by some of the staff and allowed to sleep away the tiredness, while she had arrived early for a breakfast meeting with Marianne, and had sat on the veranda to watch them train.

Apparently seeing his efforts had intrigued her enough to strike a conversation with him once he woke up. He learned that he was someone his 'aunt' had helped out before, and she learned that he was who Charles and Marianne had been looking for in Vale, and that he was to be Charles's heir.

But the house was a big place, and Jaune had usually been left to his own devices when he wasn't being trained as both his uncle and aunt had their own affairs to attend to, and Jaune wasn't privy to that yet. Blake was someone that had come almost daily since she didn't really like how loud the city was and the inn she had been staying in was small and cramped and noisy, and Marianne had given her an open invitation to drop by the Chateau anytime she wanted.

So they met on these occasions, sometimes speaking to each other over breakfast, and sometimes again in the afternoons when Jaune was more rested.

"You didn't have to wait for me, you know." He said as he set about putting food into his plate. "How're things going on in the city?"

Blake shrugged as she put down her book and started filling her own plate, taking first from the tuna omelette the cooks had started preparing every morning expecting her. "Vale is the same as usual, I think. Little changes." She gave him a look that made him pause. "You are improving though. The first few days after you started, you couldn't even join me for breakfast here. Now you're here like clockwork." The faunus girl gave him a once-over. "Well, almost." She laughed. "You still look like you could pass out any minute."

Jaune rolled his eyes. "I plan to after this, don't you worry."

Both shared a laugh as they set into their food, a silence falling between them. Jaune focusing on the meal before him. His daily exercise usually left him very hungry, and he needed the energy to get him through the day.

"By the way," Blake eventually said once she had finished her first omelette. Jaune had learned that she tended to eat more after she arrived because of the sizeable walk from the city to here. He looked up from his meal to find her looking at him with furrowed brows, as though unsure of whether she should say what she was about to.

Eventually, she seemed to have made a decision as she looked to Jaune and continued:

"I've been accepted into Beacon. The reply to my application came in this morning."

Jaune blinked but didn't immediately answer.

She must have heard of his original intent to apply to Beacon himself from Marianne. He doubted she knew that he had been planning to fake his way in, but the fact that she knew about his training should have given her an idea. All the same, it did warm his heart that she had considered his feelings on the matter.

But Jaune had slowly started hardening his heart on the matter. He was going to get what he wanted, and he was already on the road to it, he was sure. It might not have been the way he had ever imagined, but it was what it was.

He gave her a smile. "That's good to hear. I hope things go well for you." Then he sent her a thoughtful look. "I guess that means you aren't going to be visiting anymore?"

Jaune actually felt himself deflating at the realization. This place was large and lonely ─ servants or otherwise ─ and he didn't like the idea of his only real meaningful contact to disappear.

He was actually starting to see Blake as a friend.

Blake may have considered this, or at least something close to it, because she sent him another one of her small grins.

"I'm still free on Weekends," she said, "And I've been told that Beacon is close enough that I'll be able to visit as long as we're not too busy."

That… That was admittedly a relief.

"Ah." Was all that he managed to get out, however. "That's good to know."

Blake just laughed. "Yeah, I guess it is." She shook her head as she went back to her meal. "How tired are you?"

"Huh?" He'd also been about to go back to his own meal before she asked him her question. Jaune gave her another bewildered look.

The cat faunus was unperturbed, however. "Are you going to nap after this or not?"

Oh.

"I… was planning to?"

She nodded. "Mind if I bring a few books from Marianne's library, then?"

Ah.

"Ah."

Blake laughed again. "Is that a yes?"

~TtT~

Blake Belladonna lounged on a plush, red loveseat with a book in her hands while Jaune snoozed on his bed on one side of the room. After breakfast, the pair had transferred to Jaune's apartments where he would catch his midday nap to recover from his morning training.

The girl looked up from her book and considered the thought. They were in the room of a man that had an entire set of apartments dedicated to him inside this absurdly large house.

Chateau de la Brume Gris.

The name alone sounded pretentious, and Blake wondered how long it would take her to finally get used to it as well as the strangeness of this family that seemed to have more or less taken her in.

She could appreciate the quiet of the place. It was part of why she came here almost daily in the first place. Between trying to lay low from the Valean White Fang that Ilia had all but confirmed were keeping an eye out for her and the fact that Blake enjoyed distance from the hustle and bustle of the city, the Chateau was a welcome refuge.

And so she came here every day, and Lady Marianne had been more than willing to accommodate her provided Blake was okay with being left to her own devices on occasion as both Jaune's uncle and aunt had other matters to attend to during the day.

With full access to Marianne's library beside the main hall of the residence and many places where she could just sit down and read in peace, she didn't have any problems with that.

Jaune's training did catch her attention, though, as well as how different it was from her own. Ilia, Adam, and herself had all undergone very informal training. There was little you could really do when you were an activist group and the most you had were the odd older members that got into more scraps with the authorities than not. And sparring was usually how they trained ─ no better way to learn how to fight than to fight, as she was told. Any developments Blake and her two other childhood friends had managed came entirely from that.

This was quite different. Jaune was undergoing something far more structured. About a solid week of mastering his form and footwork alone on top of conditioning for being able to use his weapon.

It spoke to Blake of time, of time to be able to focus on mastery rather than of needing immediate application because one needed to fight for one's life. Blake actually felt mildly jealous.

How different would she, Ilia, and Adam had been had they had training like this? This level of single-minded focus on mastery.

Blake was curious how good Jaune was going to be in his first spars tomorrow. The cat faunus expected that he'd be a bit slow on the uptake since he didn't have that much experience, but she was certain muscle memory and good instincts would do the rest.

She'd probably come earlier than usual so she could watch, or maybe finally take Marianne up on that offer to just stay over for a night or two. Once she started Beacon she wouldn't be able to come her as often as she like, after all.

Memories of a young man with strong convictions and more hot temper than good sense flashed before her. She looked to Jaune. The blond reminded her of Adam a bit. They'd spoken of his dream of one day being a huntsman, and she could see the same conviction in him that she had once seen in her one-time lover.

The boy intrigued her. Charles and Marianne seemed to have done a lot for him, between travelling all the way to Vale from wherever they came from ─ Marianne said that it was a small city in the north-west, but it didn't tell her much ─ and even going so far as to purchase a residence like this just so they could train him. Blake was also certain that his similarities to the boy her late friend had once been didn't help, even if she wouldn't admit it.

"What kind of man are you going to be, Jaune?" She asked in a whisper before raising her legs and laying down on the loveseat.

She remembered the talk this morning and how he reacted to her leaving. He'd taken it better than she expected. Jaune struck her as someone that felt a bit lonely in this great, big house. It was such a stark difference to the much smaller house and the many sisters he'd told her about.

Blake looked to the ceiling as she placed her still-open book on her chest.

"Let's find out."

And as her mind started to drift off, Blake found herself thinking of Beacon, of the people that she would meet there and the future that she'd forge for herself, and hoped she could one day have a peace like the peace she'd found in Chateau de la Brume Gris.

And the following day, that is exactly what she did. She arrived earlier than usual, and was welcomed into the Chateau by Wolfgang before being escorted to the training yard.

What happened then was unexpected:

"I'm supposed to fight Blake?" Jaune sent her the girl in question a brief confused look before turning back to Marianne who was still overseeing Jaune's training as apparently Charles had not yet returned.

"Yes." The older woman said matter-of-factly, leading Blake to give the Lady a _look_.

This had been unexpected, and Blake hadn't really come expecting a fight. Oh sure she had Gambol Shroud with her, but that was because she made it a good practice to always be armed whenever she could, and the road leading to the Chateau did see Grimm every now and then.

"Blake is someone close to your age, and maybe the person closest to you in skill." Marianne explained with a gesture to the cat faunus. She turned to Blake. "Would you kindly, dear?"

Blake considered her, then Jaune, who was dressed in his usual training tracksuit with his sword and shield readied.

Well, she'd be finding out what kind of man he'd be sooner than she expected.

~TtT~

Jaune wasn't sure how to feel about the fact that Marianne was having him fight Blake.

Marianne's reasoning wasn't… disagreeable. It made a sense to him at first glance, even, but he'd expected to be going up against Marianne or even Charles since Jaune had been expecting the man to be back already.

Upon further thought, however, and a quick look at Montemundi, Jaune decided that maybe this wouldn't be so bad.

Not that he expected to do very well.

He walked up to the space that Marianne had designated as the ring of their fight. His trainer gave him an approving nod and turned to Blake.

"You'll find a changing room through the door over there and on your left. There should be some spare exercise gear there, too."

Blake nodded and had been turning to go before she paused, and looked back to ask a question: "What're the rules?"

Marianne cast her gaze to the dark, morning sky in thought.

"I'd like to say it's still either incapacitation or surrender." The older woman looked to Blake, and then to Jaune. "I also want to say that there should be no ring-out as this is supposed to be a test of what Jaune has managed to absorb, but I don't want you guys to trash the grounds, either." She put her hands on her waist and sent the both of them a small grin.

"So here's what we'll do," she said. "You two can take the entire training yard for your fight, but I'll be stopping it if either of you leave it. You're to fight till one of you is incapacitated or until on of you yelds. Sound good?"

Jaune nodded. Blake did, too.

"Good." Marianne repleid. She looked to the younger faunus: "Now go get changed."

Blake had gone to do so without much else to say, but she did give Jaune a look, though he couldn't decipher what it might have meant.

"Don't be so nervous." Marianne told him with a small grin. Her stance was much looser now, with one arm hanging at her side while the other stayed on her waist.

"What if I don't do well?"

"Then we train you some more." was her immediate response before giving him her own look. This one was a lot easier to understand considering the raised brow and amused tilt to her lips. "What do you think this was for?"

That… was a good point, he supposed.

Minutes later, Blake returned to the clearing and took her place across Jaune. She was dressed in a tracksuit much like his own, though hers was black while his was dark blue.

Her weapon, Gambol Shroud, was held before her in a two-handed grip.

Jaune assumed his stance, placing his shield before him and making sure hide Crocea Mors behind it.

And with Marianne's signal, the battle began.

On some level, Jaune expected a frontal charge. Whether this was to gauge his ability to respond to at least that or because Blake didn't think much of him, he wasn't sure.

He raised his shield to block it.

Just as Blake's first strike landed on his shield, another was coming in from his upper-right.

Jaune followed his first instinct and moved his shield to block again.

Pain blossomed in his side and he stumbled backwards.

"Good block, Jaune." he heard Marianne call. "Though you should watch for feints next time."

He looked to Blake, who'd just resumed her stance and sent him a small grin. There was a sparkle in her eye. She'd kicked him.

Jaune smilled while shaking his head before assuming his stance, and Marianne signaled that they continue.

Blake went in for another frontal charge.

This time, when Jaune blocked the attack, he flicked his shield outwards.

"Wha─"

Her strike went wide and he lunged in.

Blake backpedaled.

Jaune thrust Crocea Mors.

Sparks flew as he grazed her Aura.

Blake grunted and raised her arm. Jaune heard something mechanical.

He crouched low and raised his shield just in time to hear the gunshots.

Blue eyes widened in the realization: She was shooting him!

Huh. He'd probably want to keep close, then. He didn't really have much of a way to deal with that.

Actually, what was to stop her from just shooting at him from a distance?

Then the points where the shots were coming from started moving, so Jaune readjusted his shield so it would continue to block Blake's shots as she attempted to circle him.

Jaune readjusted his feet and crouched low.

A funny thing about guns that he remembered: they run out of ammo.

So the moment the shooting stopped, he rose from his crouch and into a charge with a single motion while keeping most of himself covered behind his shield. Crocea Mors was hidden behind it, too.

Blake sidestepped the charge easily enough, but she almost got caught by his blade as he passed by her.

Sadly, he failed to notice her foot.

Jaune's world quickly became very dark.


End file.
